TANNHAUSER:  BY  RICHARD  WAGNER 
RETOLD  BY  OLIVER  HUCKEL 


Tannhauser  and  the  Bride  of  Death 


Cannpuser 

A-DRAMATIC-POEM -BY-RICHARD 
WAGNER  •  FREELY-TRANSLATED 
IN-POETIC-NARRATIVE;FORM-BY 


)  •  CrotoeU**'  Co 

PUBLISHERS  •  NEW  •  YORK 


Copyright,  1906,  by  Thomas  Y.  Crowell  &  Co. 
Published,  September,  1906 


Composition  and  electrotype  plates  by 
D.  B.  Updike,  The  Merrymount  Press,  Boston 


CONTENTS 

FOREWORD  Page  ix 

PART  I 

In  the  Hill  of  Venus  3 

PART  II 

The  Tournament  of  Song  27 

PART  III 

The  Pope's  Pardon  53 


2052570 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Tannhauser  and  the  Bride  of  Death  Frontispiece 
Elizabeth  pleads  for  Tannhauser  Facing  46 
The  Final  Prayer  of  Elizabeth  54 

Elizabeth  bids  Farewell  to  Wolfram  58 


FOREWORD 

iROFESSOR  Albert  Lavignac  of  the 
Conservatoire  at  Paris  asks  the  ques- 
tion, "Which  was  greater  in  Wag- 
ner, —  the  poet  or  the  musician,  the 
InusIcaTcomposer  or  the  dramatist?"  He  an- 
swers it  by  saying  that  Wagner  was  a  genius 
whose  thought  assumed  with  equal  facility  the 
poetic  or  the  musical  form.  He  combined  them 
in  one  art,  and  carried  them  to  their  utmost 
power. 

There  may  be  dissentients  from  this  view.  Ne- 
vertheless, with  the  growing  appreciation  of 
Wagner's  music,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that 
there  is  also  an  increasing  interest  in  his  poetic 
and  dramatic  work.  He  is  unique  among  com- 
posers in  writing  both  the  words  and  the  music 
of  his  great  works.  He  is  a  splendid  poet-mu- 
sician, remarkable  in  both  qualities. 
He  wrote  his  poems  for  music.  They  are  not 
ordinary  librettos.  They  are  dramatic  poems  of 
noble  conception  and  composition.  Perhaps  this 
has  been  sometimes  forgotten  under  the  spell 
and  genius  of  the  music.  In  this  volume  the 
poem  itself  claims  our  first  attention.  Wagner 
often  felt  that  people  more  readily  appreciated 
his  music  than  his  drama,  and  had  not  there- 
fore really  entered  into  his  full  meaning.  He 
wrote  once:  "The  Tannhauser  which  I  wit- 
nessed last  evening  was  my  score  here  and 
there,  but  the  drama  of  it  put  aside."  It  may  be 
therefore  profitable  to  study,  as  we  do  here, 
the  drama  without  the  music. 
This  story  of  Tannhauser,  "in  the  skilful  weav- 

ix 


ing  of  the  dramatic  web  out  of  materials  scat- 
tered and  apparently  unrelated,  gives  a  com- 
plete demonstration  of  Wagner's  masterly 
powers  as  a  dramatist  and  dramatic  poet." 
The  first  conception  of  the  drama  was  in  1841. 
Scenic  sketches  were  made  in  1842,  and  the 
poem  was  finally  finished  on  May22, 1843.  Tann- 
hauser and  Lohengrin  were  both  conceived  in 
poetic  vision  about  the  same  time,  and  from  the 
same  sources,  and  a  glimpse  of  Parsifal  was 
also  seen  at  this  period.  Tannhauser  was  writ- 
ten before  Lohengrin  and  long  before  Parsifal. 
They  show  the  inner  development  of  the  poet's 
mind  and  heart.  He  was  working  out  his  artis- 
tic destiny  and  consummation. 
The  literary  sources  of  this  Wagnerian  story  of 
Tannhauser  are  probably  three  distinct  ones. 
The  first  is  the  legend  of  Tannhauser,  found  in 
many  forms  in  old  German  ballads  and  tales, 
and  in  which  the  ending  is  quite  different  from 
the  climax  that  Wagner  makes,  —  not  a  saving 
of  the  soul,  but  a  return  to  Venus.  The  second 
source  was  a  collection  of  poems  of  the  thir- 
teenth century  called  the  "Wartburgkrieg." 
This  gives  some  intimate  pictures  of  the  court 
of  Landgrave  Hermann  of  Thuringia,  a  famous 
patron  of  poetry  and  song,  and  it  describes  a 
poetic  contest  or  debate  on  the  glories  of  cer- 
tain princes.  Wagner  took  what  he  wanted  of 
these  poems,  and  adapted  them  to  his  pur- 
poses,—making  Tannhauser  one  of  the  min- 
nesingers of  his  story.  The  third  source  was 
the  history  of  Saint  Elizabeth  of  Hungary,  the 
daughter-in-law  of  Landgrave  Hermann  of 


Thuringia.  She  furnishes  the  suggestion  for  Jf  0f 0 
the  beautiful  character,  pure  and  lofty,  of  the 
Elizabeth  of  Wagner's  drama,  the  direct  con- 
trast to  the  evil  and  voluptuous  Venus.  Eliza- 
beth had  not  been  mentioned  in  these  previous 
sources.  This  third  source  thus  gave  what  was 
needed  for  the  exquisite  portrait  of  one  of  the 
noblest  of  Wagner's  heroines. 
It  seems  rather  incongruous  at  first  to  find  the 
strange  name  of  Frau  Venus  in  this  ancient 
Teutonic  legend.  But  we  must  remember  that 
old  Germany  had  taken  on  much  of  classic 
lore  from  its  Roman  conquerors.  The  Venus  of 
the  Romans,  the  goddess  of  love  and  beauty,— 
essentially  the  Aphrodite  of  the  Greeks,  and 
the  Astarte  of  the  Phoenicians,  —  had  pushed 
aside  the  old  Teutonic  goddess  Freya,  the  wife 
of  Odin,  queen  and  leader  of  the  Valkyres; 
Hel,  the  goddess  of  the  underworld  and  the 
dead ;  and  Holda,  the  goddess  of  the  spring, 
of  budding  and  fructification ;  and  gradually  all 
the  attributes  of  these  had  mingled  in  Frau 
Venus.  The  common  people  did  not  readily 
part  with  this  old  poetic  mythology  of  nature, 
but  even  after  they  became  Christian,  they 
merely  supposed  these  older  and  displaced  de- 
ities to  be  dwelling  in  caves  and  mountains. 
A  few  references  to  the  scene  of  the  drama  may 
be  appropriate.  The  castle  of  the  Wartburg  is 
a  noble  old  structure  in  Thuringia,  near  Eisen- 
ach, dating  from  1070.  It  was  the  official  resi- 
dence of  the  Landgraves  of  Thuringia  until  the 
extinction  of  the  family  in  1247.  It  has  been  re- 
stored to  its  original  style  and  ornamentation, 

xi 


JF010*  and  is  now  the  occasional  residence  of  the 
toOtD  Grand-Duke  °f  Weimar.  It  is  famous  for  the 
medieval  minstrel  tournaments  at  the  time  of 
Landgrave  Hermann  I  (about  1190-1217);  and 
also  has  a  peculiar  interest  as  the  refuge  of 
Martin  Lutherat  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth 
century.  Here  is  still  shown  the  room,  with 
many  memorials,  where  Luther  worked  on  his 
translation  of  the  Bible,  —  a  translation  which 
was  to  mean  so  much  in  the  language  and  lit- 
erature of  Germany. 

The  Horselberg,  where  according  to  tradition 
is  situated  the  cave  of  Venus,  is  a  long,  deeply 
furrowed  ridge  (about  one  thousand  five  hun- 
dred and  seventy-five  feet  high),  some  ten  or 
twelve  miles  from  Eisenach  and  the  Wart- 
burg. 

The  personages  described  in  the  song  contest 
are  historical.  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach  was 
a  knightly  champion  of  Christianity  and  of  the 
virtues  of  woman.  Walther  von  der  Vogelweide 
was  a  Tyrolean  poet  of  renown.  Reimar  and  Bi- 
terolf  were  also  notable  poets  of  their  day. 
There  are  some  unusually  fine  poetic  touches 
in  thedrama.  Recall  Tannhauser  in  thrall  to  Ve- 
nus in  the  underworld,  longing  to  hear  the  song 
of  birds  and  once  more  to  suffer  pain.  Notice 
that  Venus  has  real  love  and  womanly  feeling. 
Notice  also  that  Tannhauser's  cry  to  the  Vir- 
gin is  the  only  means  of  breaking  the  spell. 
Then  note  the  contrast  between  the  red  revels 
of  the  halls  of  Venus  and  the  green  valleys  be- 
fore the  Wartburg  where  the  sheep-bells  tinkle. 
See  "the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  the  medie- 
xii 


val  contest."  Recall  Wolfram's  ode  to  the  even- 
ing  star.  Remember  Tannhauser's  return  from 
Rome,  and  the  contest  of  his  feelings,  —  "one 
of  the  most  intensely  tragic  pieces  of  writing  in 
all  dramatic  literature."  Recall  that  fine  touch, 
—the  sainted  Elizabeth,  dead,  is  still  the  guard- 
ian angel  of  this  poor  wanderer.  Fine  fancy  in 
a  hundred  places  shows  Wagner  the  poet.  Re- 
call that  striking  appeal,  —  Elizabeth's  earnest 
prayer  for  the  salvation  of  Tannhauser.  Al- 
though struck  to  the  heart  by  more  than  mor- 
tal wound,  Elizabeth  thinks  first  of  him :  "What 
matters  it  to  me?  But  he,  his  salvation!  Would 
you  rob  him  of  his  eternal  salvation?"  Has  not 
Wagner  here  wrought  with  the  stroke  of  ge- 
nius? 

The  opening  of  the  drama  has  two  versions, 
called  the  Dresden  and  the  Parisian  versions. 
The  latter  is  a  much  fuller  revelation  of  the 
character  of  Venus ;  it  is  usually  the  one  now 
used,  and  seemed  best  liked  by  Wagner.  The 
drama  also  has  two  endings,  —  a  longer  and  a 
shorter.  In  the  latter,  one  sees  neither  Venus 
nor  the  funeral  procession  of  Elizabeth.  These 
are  indicated  merely  by  the  distant  lights  in  the 
grotto  of  Venus,  and  the  funeral  knells  tolled 
by  the  bells  of  the  Wartburg.  The  present  vol- 
ume slightly  abbreviates  the  Parisian  opening, 
but  uses  the  longer  ending  of  the  drama.  Wol- 
fram's Song  to  the  Evening  Star  and  the  Final 
Hymn  have  both  been  lengthened  to  give  the 
effect  which  musical  repetition  and  prolonga- 
tion give  in  the  actual  opera. 
The  poem  as  indicated  was  written  by  1843 ;  the 

xiii 


jFOtfc-  music  was  completed  in  1845.  But  before  any 
tDOtO  production  of  the  work  could  be  given,  Wag- 
ner had  plunged  into  politics  and  made  many 
enemies.  He  associated  himself  in  1846  with 
August  Roeckel  and  with  the  revolutionist  Ba- 
kounine  in  militant  politics.  He  made  some  very 
imprudent  speeches,  and  afterwards  fled  from 
Dresden  to  Weimar,  where  his  friend  Liszt  was 
directing  rehearsals  for  Tannhauser.  But  ru- 
mor came  that  his  arrest  was  ordered  as  a  dan- 
gerous agitator,  and  he  left  the  country  under 
a  fictitious  passport,  and  became  an  exile  for 
twelve  years. 

He  went  to  Paris  ;then  to  Zurich,  where  he  lived 
and  worked  for  some  time,  and  where  he  gave 
Tannhauser.  In  1855  he  went  to  London  to  di- 
rect eight  concerts  of  the  Philharmonic  Society. 
Among  other  selections  of  his  own  he  gave  the 
overture  to  Tannhauser.  It  excited  general  en- 
thusiasm, while  the  royal  family  summoned  the 
author  to  their  box  to  receive  congratulations. 
In  1859  Napoleon  III,  at  the  instance  of  Mme. 
de  Metternich  and  others,  gave  orders  for  a 
great  performance  of  Tannhauser  in  Paris, 
which  scored  a  splendid  success.  It  was  for  this 
performance  that  the  Venusberg  scenes  were 
enlarged.  Another  epoch  was  in  1864,  when 
young  King  Ludwig  II  of  Bavaria  called  Wag- 
nertohiscourt,  and  bestowinghonorand  wealth 
upon  him,  commanded  him  to  complete  the 
Nibelungen  Lied  series,  and  to  have  his  other 
works  magnificently  represented.  The  kinghad 
a  splendid  and  unique  performance  of  Tann- 
hauser given  in  Munich.  Thereafter  it  was  given 
xiv 


in  many  cities,  and  became  one  of  Wagner's  JFOt05 
most  popular  works.  UJOtD 

A  few  words  concerning  the  music.  As  Profes- 
sor Lavignac,  whom  we  have  already  cited, 
says:  "Wagner  has  two  languages  at  his  com- 
mand, two  means  of  making  himself  under- 
stood by  his  fellow  men, — poetry  and  music; 
which,  being  united,  form  but  one  language 
with  an  absolutely  matchless  intensity  of  ex- 
pression. By  means  of  poetry  Wagner  reveals 
to  us  the  outward  man,  who  speaks  and  acts; 
by  means  of  music,  he  enables  us  to  penetrate 
into  the  secret  thoughts  of  the  inner  man ;  with 
music,  also,  he  raises  us  above  terrestrial  hu- 
manity and  transports  us  into  the  supernatural 
regions  of  the  ideal."  Wonderful  music  is  this 
of  Tannhauser.  The  Song  of  the  Sirens,  the 
Dance  of  the  Bacchantes,  The  Hymn  to  Venus, 
The  Romance  of  the  Star,  The  Pilgrim's  Cho- 
rus,—each  has  its  own  charm.  But  the  great 
overture  is  a  magnificent  inspiration.  It  paints 
the  whole  picture,  and  voices  the  whole  deep 
struggle.  It  is  thrilling,  almost  overpowering, 
in  its  agonies,  beseechings,  strugglings,  and 
glorious  triumph. 

TheinnersignificanceoftheTannhauserdrama 
is  manifest.  The  bacchanals  in  the  Venus  scenes 
typify  "the  gratification  of  the  senses,"  while 
the  pilgrims  portray  "the  higher  desires  of 
man."  Elizabeth  represents  the  loftiest  embodi- 
ment of  desire,  the  eternal  woman-soul  which 
"leadeth  us  ever  upward  and  on."  Wagner 
makes  the  saving  principle  in  his  tragic  story 
the  principle  of  "self-effacement,  a  love  faithful 
unto  death."  xv 


JfOtCs  It  has  been  said  that  Tannhauser  is  a  man's 
story ;  that  women  never  find  in  it  what  a  man 
finds  there ;  that  the  experience  of  the  story  lies 
beyond  the  pale  of  the  feminine  nature,  and 
therefore  cannot  be  fully  appreciated  by  them. 
However  this  may  be,  yet  there  is  an  appeal  and 
fascination  in  the  story  for  everysoul.  It  touches 
something  vital  and  universal.  In  the  experi- 
ence of  Tannhauser,  as  the  musical  and  dra- 
matic critic,  W.  J.  Henderson,  rightly  asserts, 
"Wagner  has  set  before  us  the  struggle  of  the 
pure  and  the  impure,  the  lusts  and  the  aspira- 
tions of  man's  nature.  It  is  essentially  the  tra- 
gedy of  a  man.  Tannhauser  is  typical  of  every 
man,  beset  on  the  one  hand  by  the  desire  of  the 
flesh  which  satiates  and  maddens,  and  courted 
on  the  other  by  the  undying  loveliness  of  chaste 
and  holy  love.  If  ever  a  sermon  was  preached 
as  to  the  certainty  with  which  the  sins  of  the 
flesh  will  find  a  man  out,  it  is  preached  in  this 
tremendous  tragedy,  when  the  flame  of  old  pas- 
sions sears  the  flesh  of  new  happiness  and 
drives  the  errant  out  of  paradise.  Wagner,  out 
of  the  old  Tannhauser  myth,  fashioned  the  tra- 
gedy of  a  man's  soul.  Every  man  must  bow  his 
head  in  reverence  to  the  genius  which  thus 
made  quick  the  battle  of  passion  against  purity 
for  the  possession  of  man's  soul.  Wagner  wrote 
no  mightier  tragedy  than  this." 
This  present  series  of  interpretations  (of  which 
this  volume  is  the  third)  has  thus  treated  three 
great  dramas,— Parsifal,  Lohengrin  and  Tann- 
hauser, —all  closely  connected,  and  each  one  a 
superb  portrayal  of  some  vital  truth  of  life.  They 
xvi 


are  exquisite  in  the  artistic  beauty  of  their  le- 
gends,  and  thrillingwith  the  surge  of  the  mighty 
problems  with  which  they  struggle.  Parsifal 
means  enlightenment  and  salvation  through 
suffering;  Lohengrin  portrays  unquestioning 
faith  as  the  basis  of  noblest  and  happiest  life ; 
Tannhauser  is  a  parable  of  the  redemptive 
power  of  a  pure  and  unselfish  love. 

OLIVER  HUCKEL 


XV11 


TANNHAUSER.  PART  I 


THE  HILL  OF  VENUS 

[LOSE  to  the  peaceful  vale  of  Eisen- 
ach, 
In  far  Thuringia,  towers  a  gloomy 

mount, 

The  Horselberg,  a  grim  and  lonely  pile, 
Long  called  "thehill  of  Venus,"  with  its  cave,  — 
Unfathomed  depths  of  subterranean  gloom,  — 
Where  men  have  lost  their  souls  in  heathen  love 
To  that  fair  goddess  of  the  evil  heart, 
Who,  banished  from  the  light  by  the  white 

Christ, 

Holds  now  her  court  and  pagan  revelries, 
Deep  in  the  dark  abysses  of  the  earth. 

Come  near  and  gaze  into  the  desperate  depths ! 
For  now  the  Horselberg  is  gaping  wide, 
And  music  of  the  revels  issues  forth, 
Reechoing  from  the  rocky  halls  and  walls. 
The  fair,  false  Venus  holds  her  court  to-day. 
See  far  within !  behold  the  great  cave's  breadth ! 
See  there  the  sparkling,  flashing  waterfall, 
Plunging  in  foam  across  the  mossy  rocks 
To  winding  waters  of  a  happy  brook 
That  purls  and  flashes  through  the  flowery 

fields. 

Far  off  a  crystal  lake  of  shimmering  blue, 
Where  graceful  naiads  toss  the  shining  waves, 
With  laughter  shouting  in  their  merry  baths ; 
Along  the  lake's  white  strand,  fair  sirens  rest 
Within  the  grateful  shade  of  noble  trees. 
A  rosy  light,  like  the  first  flush  of  dawn, 
Illumines  all  the  cave  with  sunrise  tints. 
Here  are  a  group  of  nymphs  in  airy  dance 


O 


3|n  tf)E  Of  feiry  circles>  while  amid  the  groves 
Iftill  Of  ^re  Pa^rs  of  blushing  lovers,  dimly  seen, 
j¥        e  Reclining  blissful  on  the  grassy  mounds. 
•••*  Sudden  come  rushing  in  tumultuous  dance 
The  wild  bacchantes,  mad  with  fiery  joy, 
And  quivering  with  voluptuous  melody; 
They  stir  the  dancing  nymphs  and  lovers  fair 
To  join  them  in  their  frenzied  whirl  of  love, 
While  soft  the  sirens  sing  a  serenade : 

COME  to  the  strand 

Of  the  lake  of  delight! 
O  come  to  the  land 

Of  beauty  most  bright ! 
Where  the  sweetest  of  kisses, 

And  soft  arms  caressing, 
Shall  enfold  you  with  blisses, 
Love's  rapture  confessing!" 

A  fleeting  moment  all  the  dancers  pause 
To  listen  to  the  sirens'  passioned  song— 
With  many  repetitions  and  sweet  strains— 
The  fervent  invitation  to  these  bowers 
Where  music  is  the  soul  and  atmosphere, 
And  flowers  breathe  their  heavy  rich  perfume, 
And  love  is  evermore  the  only  queen. 
Then  visions  seem  to  float  upon  the  air:  — 
Fair  Europa  upon  her  snow-white  bull, 
Festooned  with  flowers  and  riding  through 

the  sea, 

Led  on  by  nereids  and  tritons  bold ; 
Then  beauteous  Leda  throned  on  rosy  mists, 
Soft  moonlight  and  a  shore  of  forest  lake. 
A  swan  swims  toward  her  and  caressingly 
Hides  his  fond  head  upon  her  bosom  fair. 
4 


Still  other  visions  of  the  old-time  love 
Appear  and  disappear  as  music  throbs. 
Then  as  the  sirens  cease,  the  dance  begins 
Once  more  with  wilder  energy  of  joy 
And  stranger,  fiercer  music  arabesque, 
Until  the  wild  bacchantes,  fever-hot, 
Have  fired  the  ardent  souls  of  all  the  throng 
To  fiercest  frenzy  of  the  maddest  love. 
Full  at  the  height  a  sudden  blight  is  felt 
Of  awful  weariness,  and  all  is  still. 
The  lovers  rest  again  upon  the  sward ; 
The  wild  bacchantes  quickly  disappear; 
A  thick  mist  gathers  in  great  rosy  clouds, 
Concealing  naiads,  sirens,  lovers,  nymphs, 
And  leaving  visible  one  only  pair,— 
Two  glorious  lovers,  splendid  to  behold : 
One  the  fair  radiant  Queen  of  Love  herself, 
The  goddess  Venus,  perfect  in  her  charms, 
Features  and  form  superbly  beautiful, 
Lying  in  rest  upon  a  royal  couch. 
And  at  her  feet,  as  lover,  suppliant,  slave, 
Kneeling  enraptured  in  devoted  vows, 
Tannhauser,  valiant  knight  of  German  lands, 
And  famous  minstrel,  singer  of  brave  songs, 
Poet  and  prince  of  poets  in  all  lands. 
For  in  an  evil  hour,  when  sad  of  heart 
And  full  of  earthly  griefs  and  desperate  pain, 
A  sudden  madness  seemed  to  strike  his  brain 
And  he  had  sought  for  refuge  in  the  mount 
Of  Horselberg,  and  wandered  to  the  depths, 
Led  captive  in  the  lure  of  evil  love. 

A  year  of  maddest  revelry  had  passed 
(It  seemed  to  him  as  but  a  single  day), 

5 


3Itt  tb0  And  now  t*16  life  of  sin  palled  on  his  heart. 
JKJJJ  gf  O  sad  satiety  of  evil  love,— 

l&r>nii«  *?or  sin  can  never  satisfy  the  soul! 

5  Now  had  his  better  nature  waked  again, 
And  longed  for  earthly  life  and  liberty, 
For  earthly  life  with  mingled  joy  and  pain. 

Sudden  he  wildly  raised  his  aching  head, 
As  if  he  started  from  a  weary  dream ; 
But  Venus  drew  him  back  most  lovingly. 
Again  he  started  and  upraised  his  hands 
Across  his  eyes,  as  if  he  dreamed  a  dream, 
And  would  recall  it  to  his  half-waked  brain. 
But  Venus  softly  whispered  words  of  love : 
"  My  dearest,  speak ;  where  stray  thy  thoughts 

to-day?" 

He  answered  not,  but  cried  in  desperate  pain : 
"No  more!  no  more!  O  that  I  now  might 

wake !" 
Then  Venus:  "Speak!  what  grief  is  in  thy 

heart?" 

Then  he  essayed  to  bare  his  troubled  soul : 
"In  dreams  I  seemed  to  hear  the   distant 

sounds 

That  have  so  long  been  strangers  to  my  ears,  — 
The  silver  chime  of  church-bells  in  the  hills. 
Tell  me,  I  pray,  how  long  since  these  I  heard?" 

Stung  by  his  words,  she  spake  in  quick  reproof: 
"Art  thou  beside  thyself?  What  aileth  thee?" 
And  in  pathetic  maze  he  answered  her: 
"How  long  my  sojourn  here  I  cannot  tell; 
I  cannot  measure  it  by  days  or  months ; 
The  seasons  pass,  but  I  am  unaware ; 

6 


For  now  the  radiant  sun  I  see  no  more, 
And  nevermore  the  friendly  stars  of  heaven ; 
No  more  the  verdure  of  the  gentle  spring, 
Nor  fresh  green  foliage  of  the  summer  days ; 
No  more  hear  I  the  nightingale's  sweet  song 
That  brings  the  promise  of  the  earth  renewed: 
These  sights,  these  sounds,  fair  nature  and 

sweet  earth, 
Are  these  delights  forever  lost  to  me?" 

Full  of  reproaches,  sternly  Venus  spake : 
"What!  dost  thou  waver?  Why  these  vain  re- 
grets? 

Art  thou  so  soon  grown  weary  of  the  bliss 
With  which  my  love  divine  has  compassed 

thee? 

Or  dost  thou  now  so  soon  repent  the  crown 
Of  godhood  that  my  love  set  on  thy  brow, 
Giving  thee  place  with  the  immortal  great? 
Hast  thou  so  soon  forgot  thy  bitter  woes, 
Which  only  by  my  love  were  soothed  and 

cured? 

Come,  my  own  minstrel,  seize  thy  harp  divine! 
Sing  now  of  Love,  which  thou  didst  praise  so 

well, 

Chanting  its  bliss  and  rapture  in  such  tones 
That  thou  didst  win  me,  goddess  of  all  Love 
And  goddess  of  all  Beauty.  Sing  to  me ! 
Sing   Love,— for   see,— its  highest  prize   is 

thine! 
For  I  am  thine.  Fair  Venus  is  thine  own!" 

Then  suddenly  inspired  by  her  great  love,  — 
Love  that  had  been  delight  and  deep  despair,— 


And  thralled  by  her  great  beauty's  mystic  spell, 
Tannhauser  seized  his  golden  harp  and  sang 
A  rapturous  song  to  Venus,  Queen  of  Love: 

O  QUEEN  of  Love!  Immortal  fame  at- 
tend thee, 

Most  joyful  praise  to  thee  be  ever  sung! 
Each  dear  delight  which  thy  fair  grace  did 

lend  me, 
Shall  wake  the  harp  while  time  and  love  are 

young! 

T  was  joy  alone,  a  longing  deep  for  pleasure, 
That  filled  my  heart  and  darkened  my  de- 
sire, 

And  thou,  whose  bounty  gods  alone  can  mea- 
sure, 
Didst  give  to  me  love's  own  immortal  fire ! 

"Yet  am  I  only  mortal,  and  the  dower 
Of  thy  great  love  grows  heavier  every  hour. 
Only  a  god  can  bear  such  boundless  joy; 
Unceasing  bliss  these  mortal  hearts  destroy. 
Give  me,  I  pray,  the  earthly  pain  and  pleasure 
Of  wholesome  Nature's  sweet  alternate  mea- 
sure! 

O  Queen  belov'd,  I  must  away  or  die ! 
O  Venus,  fairest  Goddess,  let  me  fly!" 

A  flush  of  shame  glowed  on  her  angry  face, 
As  rudely  wakened  from  her  dream  of  love, 
Fair  Venus  spake:  "Is  this  thy  fealty? 
And  this  thy  song,  so  weary  with  regret? 
Ah,  where  are  now  the  rapturous  measures 

glad,- 

The  joy  of  love  which  erst  inspired  thy  heart? 
8 


Tell  me,  what  has  my  love  denied  to  thee?        3lH  t{)0 
Tell  me,  what  have  I  done  to  weary  thee?"        Jhjjj  gf 

Then  once  again  Tannhauser  took  his  harp,     ™^ 
A  glowing  penitence  within  his  heart, 
A  fervent  gratitude  for  all  her  love, 
And  sang  with  swelling  voice  this  wondrous 
song: 

QUEEN  of  Love!  in  numbers  sweet  I 

praise  thee ! 
Thrice  blessed  he  on  whom  thy  favors  shine ! 
With  grace  of  beauty  every  charm  arrays  thee, 

And  in  thy  soft  white  arms  is  bliss  divine ! 
Transporting  are  thy  wonders  without  mea- 
sure, 

The  magic  of  all  pleasure  breathe  I  here, 
No  land  of  all  the  earth  can  boast  such  treasure ; 
Their  wealth,  beside  thy  riches,  seems  most 
drear. 

"Yet  in  the  pleasures  of  these  rosy  bowers 
I  long  to  see  the  woods  and  common  flowers ; 
I  long  to  see  the  heaven's  crystal  blue, 
And  the  fair  fields  and  verdure  wet  with  dew; 
I  long  to  hear  the  song-birds  in  the  dells, 
And  the  dear  chiming  of  the  silver  bells. 
O  Queen  of  Love,  I  must  away  or  die! 
O  Venus,  fairest  Goddess,  let  me  fly!" 

Thus  sang  he  praises  of  voluptuous  love, 
While  in  his  heart  was  lassitude  and  pain ; 
And  as  he  ceased,  and  pleaded  to  be  gone, 
Fair  Venus  sprang  up  from  her  couch  and 
cried: 

9 


31tl  tf)C  "Ungrateful  wretch,  to  speak  such  scoffing 

Mil  of    words» 

l&fntlS  ^nc*  scorn  tke  wealth  of  love  I  poured  onthee! 
Thou  praisest  what  thou  seekest  now  to  flee ! 
Alas,  that  all  my  charms  have  wearied  thee!" 

But  quietly  Tannhauser  answered  her: 
"O  fair  perfection,  frown  not  on  thy  slave! 
Thine  overwhelming    charms    now  must    I 

shun,— 

Thy  wealth  of  love  I  cannot  more  endure!" 
Quickly  cried  Venus  with  indignant  breath: 
"Beware,  thou  traitor!  false  dissembler,  hold! 
Thou  shalt  not  leave  me.  I  forbid  thy  flight!" 
But  firm  he  answered  in  a  voice  of  pain : 
"Yea,  never  was  my  love  more  strong,  more 

true, 

And  yet,  I  must  forever  flee  from  thee ! 
Bereft  of  thy  sweet  presence,  joy  is  hate, 
Yet  fate  impels,  —  I  long  for  liberty!" 

And  at  that  word,  fair  Venus  turned  away, 
Buried  her  tear-stained  face  within  her  hands, 
And  long  sat  silent.  Then  again  she  turned, 
Tears  in  her  eyes,  but  love  upon  her  lips, 
In  smiles  and  words  of  winning  tenderness: 
"Beloved,  come!  Renew  our  vows  of  love! 
Remember  all  the  rapture  of  the  past! 
See  this  fair  grotto,  sacred  to  our  bliss! 
The  purple  shadows  break  in  softest  dawn ; 
The  murmurous  music  sounds  the  joys  of  love; 
The  perfumed  air  is  full  of  fairest  dreams. 
Love  hath  a  solace  for  thy  restless  heart, 
Love  hath  delights  as  yet  unknown  to  thee. 

10 


Come,  let  us  now  confess  our  faith  renewed,— 

Enter  again  into  the  bliss  divine. 

Twere  worse  than  dying  from  sweet  love  to 

part. 

Come,  plight  anew  our  tender  troth  of  love! 
In  joy  immortal  be  our  hearts  at  peace. 
No  longer  worship  the  fair  power  of  love,  — 
Come,  be  with  me  Love's  Lord  for  evermore!" 

Deep  was  he  moved,  and  quickly  snatched  his 

harp, 

To  make  melodious  vows  of  loyalty. 
Firm  had  he  fixed  his  purpose  to  be  gone, 
Yet  sought  release  by  solemn  promises 
To  make  her  beauty  known  to  all  the  world. 
Thus  did  he  hope  to  soothe  her  wounded  heart, 
And  sang  his  farewell  song  of  praise  to  her: 

QUEEN  of  Love,  my  harp  shall  ever 

praise  thee ! 
While  I  have  life,  thou  shalt  my  song  in- 
spire ! 
Thou  fount  of  beauty,  every  charm  obeys  thee, 

Of  all  that  lives  thou  art  the  best  desire! 
The  fire  that  thou  dost  kindle  in  my  spirit 
Shall  burn,  an  altar  flame,  to  thee  alone! 
My  song  shall  be  divine  but  by  thy  merit,  — 
For  both  my  heart  and  harp  thy  love  doth 
own! 

"And  yet  for  earth  and  earthly  pain  still  yearn- 
ing, 

In  thy  soft  chains  with  weakest  shame  e'er 
burning, 

T  is  dauntless  liberty  for  which  I  sigh ! 

II 


For  deathless  freedom  I  can  all  defy ! 
To  this  world's  strife  and  glory  I  must  go,— 
Come  life  or  death,  come  joy  or  bitterest  woe! 
O  Queen  of  Love,  I  must  away  or  die! 

0  Venus,  fairest  Goddess,  let  me  fly!" 

Thus  had  he  sung  three  times  this  hymn  of 

praise, 

Extolling  Venus  and  her  radiant  charms, 
And  all  the  rare  enchantments  of  her  realm ; 
Vowing  to  sing  these  praises  evermore ; 
And  yet  each  time  he  sang  his  heart  was  torn, 
Longing  for  nature  and  the  radiant  spring, 
Yearning  for  flowery  fields  and  verdant  woods, 
Haunted  by  dreams  of  purity  and  peace. 

Quickly  she  saw  her  plea  with  him  was  lost ; 
She  saw  him  steeled  against  her  blandish- 
ments ; 

She  felt  the  bitter  hate  of  woman  scorned, 
And  in  a  burst  of  furious  passion  cried : 
"Begone,  thou  shameless  traitor  heart,  be- 
gone! 
Madman,  begone!  I  will  not  hold  thee  more! 

1  set  thee  free !  Begone,  I  say,  begone ! 
What  thou  art  longing  for  shall  be  thy  doom ! 
Go  back  to  all  the  cold  and  joyless  earth, 
Where  neither  life  nor  love  can  fully  bloom ; 
Whence  every  smiling  god  of  joy  hath  fled ; 
Where  dark  suspicion  has  its  evil  birth ! 
Begone,  thou  madman,  seek  thy  empty  joy 
In  thy  cold  world  and  find  it  nevermore ! 
Soon  will  this  pride  and  fever  quit  thy  soul. 


12 


I  see  thee,  humbled,  coming  back  to  me,  —       3lH  tt)0 
Bruised,  yea,  and  crushed,  remorse  deep  in   |])jf J  of 
thy  heart,  teentlS 

Remembering  the  joys  that  thou  hast  lost ! 
I  see  thee,  seeking  me  with  cries  and  tears, 
Beseeching  for  the  magic  of  my  might!" 

Tannhauser  answered  proudly  with  a  boast: 
"Ah,  fair  enchantress,  take  my  last  farewell  1 
Never  again  shall  I  return  to  thee!" 
Then  Venus  spake  with  a  quick  look  of  scorn: 
"Yea,  if  thou  never  shalt  return  to  me, 
And  if  thou  ever  dost  forget  my  love, 
Then  do  I  put  my  curse  on  all  thy  race,  — 
On  all  the  false  and  faithless  sons  of  men. 
Then  shall  they  seek  for  love,  but  all  in  vain,  — • 
The  world  a  desert  and  its  lord  a  slave ! 
Go  forth,  thou  madman,  seek  thy  loveless 

doom! 

Thou  wilt  return  again  and  seek  my  love!" 
Quickly  he  answered  her  with  earnest  speech: 
"Nay,  never  shall  I  be  thy  slave  again! 
Nor  know  again  the  rapturous  bliss  of  love!" 
Then  Venus:  "Go!  a  wanderer  on  the  earth, 
Until  thy  heart  shall  draw  thee  back  again!" 
But  he:  "I  go  forever  when  I  go! 
Yea,  my  beloved,  though  it  break  my  heart." 

Then  Venus  once  again:  "The  world  will  scoff 
And  scorn  thee,  when  it  learns  thy  secret  sin 
And  all  this  year  of  dalliance  with  me." 
But  he:  "No  more  to  joy  and  bliss  I  go,— 
My  longing  calls  to  combat,  yea,  to  death ! 
I  go  to  sorrow  and  to  direst  pain. 

13 


3|U  tf)C  Through    penance   shall    I   lose    the    hated 

curse,  - 

^  true  rePentance  heals  the  sorest  heart." 
Then  Venus  spake  again:  "Forgiveness  ne'er 
Can  be  thy  portion  with  thy  blackened  soul ! 
Never  will  mercy  ope  its  gates  to  thee! 
Thou  wilt  return  to  me.  No  hope  for  thee, 
Nor  peace  in  all  the  world,  except  with  me." 

But  with  a  cry  Tannhauser  answered  her: 
"Goddess  of  pleasure,  not  in  thee  my  trust— 
My  hope,  my  peace,  doth  rest  in  Mary's  grace. 
Mary,  fair  Queen  of  Heaven,  virgin  Queen, 
To  thee  I  cry  for  help !  O  rescue  me !" 

And  with  that  prayer,  and  at  that  magic  name 
Of  holy  Mary,  mother  of  all  grace, 
A  miracle  was  wrought,  —  a  shriek  was  heard, 
And  Venus  vanished,  and  her  realm  of  love 
Was  overwhelmed  in  darkness  and  abyss. 

Amazed  and  stunned,Tannhauserlayin  trance, 

And  knew  not  if  he  lived,  or  died,  or  slept. 

At  length  he  raised  himself  and  looked 
around,  -— 

What  wondrous  scene  his  wondering  eyes  be- 
held! 

Here  was  the  valley  green  and  beautiful 

That  boyhood  days  had  known  and  loved  so 
well; 

Again  sweet  sunshine,  and  the  sky's  clear  blue. 

There  on  the  right,  the  towering  Wartburg 
rose— 

That  rocky  fortress  on  a  rocky  height, 

14 


That  filled  his  soul  with  dreams  of  chivalry;     J[j|  (jjg 

And  on  the  left,  seen  through  the  opening  vale,  IHJII  nf 

The  wooded  ranges  of  the  Horselberg. 

He  looked  with  deepest  shudder  as  he  thought 

Of  all  that  he  had  known  in  those  deep 
woods,  — 

The  hidden  path,  the  dark  depths,  and  the 
cave 

Where  he  had  spent  his  year  of  nameless  sin. 

Now  was  his  thought  transformed  and  com- 
forted, 

For  just  before  him  on  the  wooded  path 

That  upward  guided  to  the  Wartburg  heights, 

His  eye  beheld  the  holy  Virgin's  shrine, 

A  wayside  shrine  for  passing  travellers'  prayers ; 

And  now  he  heard  the  sheep-bells  tinkling 
soft; 

And  there  on  a  high  cliff,  in  careless  joy, 

A  youthful  shepherd  sang  the  charms  of 
spring, 

Playing  upon  his  pipe  a  rustic  strain : 

"*T3~  AIR  Holda,  goddess  of  the  spring, 

,1     U  Steps  forth  from  the  mountains  old ; 
She  comes  and  all  the  brooklets  sing, 

And  fled  is  winter's  cold. 
My  heart  is  full  of  gladdest  dreams ; 

The  day  dawns  fresh  and  clear; 
The  golden  sunshine  o'er  me  streams; 

And  May,  sweet  May,  is  here ! 
Play,  play,  my  pipe,  your  lightest  lay, 
For  spring  has  come,  and  merry  May!" 


15 


O 


31tl  tf)f  Scarce  had  the  shepherd  played  his  happy 

JMl  Of      strain» 

r^  When  other  songs  were  heard  far  off  and  slow ; 

>  The  shepherd  stopped  and  listened,  as  they 

neared 

And  grew  in  clearness  and  in  solemn  power. 
It  was  a  band  of  pilgrims,  ancient  men, 
Descending  from   the  frowning  Wartburg's 

heights, 

Beginning  pious  pilgrimage  to  Rome ; 
And  as  they  walked,  they  sang  this  solemn 

hymn: 

LORD,  the  sinner's  hope  and  plea, 
We  bend  our  sorrowing  steps  to  Thee! 
O  Mary,  Queen  of  Heaven,  we  pray, 
Be  gracious  to  our  pilgrim  way! 

"  Deep  is  the  guilt  within  the  breast, 
Gone  is  the  heavenly  peace  and  rest,— 
O  that  relief  would  come  again ! 
Heavy  the  sorrow  and  the  pain. 

"Unto  the  holy  shrine  we  go,  — 
Thrice  blessed  they  who  pardon  know,  — 
To  seek  the  peace  of  God's  own  word, 
By  penitence  before  our  Lord." 

Slowly  they  sang  and  wended  their  slow  way ; 
The  shepherd  lifted  up  his  cap,  and  waved 
A  greeting  and  farewell,  and  called  to  them : 
"God  speed  you  on  your  blessed  pilgrim  way! 
And  breathe  a  prayer  for  me  at  holy  Rome." 


16 


Spellbound,  Tannhauser  seemed  to  stand ;        J[n  ( 
New  thoughts  and  hopes  were  surging  in  his  JHJJJ 

breast'  tern 

Then  suddenly  he  knelt  in  prayer  and  cried :     "^ 

"Almighty  God,  all  praise  I  give  to  Theel 
Great   are   the   marvels    of  Thy    wondrous 
grace!" 

Slowly  the  pilgrims  passed  the  mountain  way, 
Hard  by  the  Virgin's  shrine  and  through  the 

woods ; 
And  now  were  lost  to  sight.  The  sheep-bells 

clear 

Far  sounded,  and  the  shepherd  left  the  heights, 
Playing  soft  ditties  on  his  merry  pipe. 
Then  fainter  came  the  pilgrims'  song  once 

"more: 

"O  Lord,  the  sinner's  hope  and  plea, 
We  bend  our  sorrowing  steps  to  Thee ! 
O  Mary,  Queen  of  Heaven,  we  pray, 
Be  gracious  to  our  pilgrim  way!" 

Absorbed  in  fervent  prayer  Tannhauser  knelt, 
And  with  the  far-off  song,  his  own  heart  sang: 

"  Deep  is  the  guilt  within  my  breast, 
Gone  is  the  heavenly  peace  and  rest,— 
O  that  relief  might  come  again! 
Heavy  the  sorrow  and  the  pain!" 

Tears  choked  his  voice;  he  bowed  his  sorrow- 
ing head, 

And  wept  most  bitterly.  The  pilgrims'  song 
Had  died  in  distance,  and  another  sound, 
Blest  with  the  memories  of  childhood  days, 

17 


Came  to  his  ears,— the  mellow  church-bells' 

chime, 

Calling  the  worshippers  to  holy  prayer ; 
And  once  again  the  fountain  of  his  tears 
Welled  up  with  new-born  hopes  and  new-felt 

prayers. 

Sudden  the  startling  blast  of  hunting-horns 
Rang  through  the  hills  and  valleys,  echoing, 
And  from  the  forest  and  the  neighboring  hills, 
In  quick  and  hot  pursuit  of  hurrying  game, 
Rushed  down  a  throng  of  huntsmen,  brave 

arrayed 

In  all  their  hunting-trappings  gay  and  bright,— 
The  Landgrave  of  Thuringia,  and  all 
His  brilliant  court  of  minstrels  and  of  knights. 
But  seeing  there  a  figure  motionless, 
The  Landgrave  stopped  amazed  and  low  in- 
quired : 

"Who  is  yon  penitent  so  deep  in  prayer?" 
Then  Walter,  gayest  knight  of  all  the  train, 
Made  answer:  "Prayers  and  pilgrims  close 

agree." 

But  Biterolf,  another  knight,  spake  up : 
"By  every  sign  he  seems  a  noble  knight." 
While  still  another  huntsman,  Wolfram,  cried, 
For  his  keen  eyes  had  recognized  a  friend : 
"'Tis  he  whom  we  have  lost  for  full  a  year,  — 
'Tis  he  whom  we  have  mourned  with  sorrow- 
ing hearts!" 

And  all  cried  out  with  joy:  "  Tis  he!  'tis  he! 
Henry!  our  brave  Tannhauser!  hail  to  thee!" 


18 


Amazed,  Tannhauser  rose  in  haste  and  stood  3|U  tj)0 
In  silence,—  for  deep  guilt  was  in  his  heart.  J^jJJ  0f 
He  looked  upon  their  faces,  and  was  sad. 

Then  said  the  Landgrave:  "Art  thou  surely 

come? 

Dost  thou  return  to  our  poor  company 
Which  once  so  proudly,   rashly,  thou  didst 

leave?" 

And  Biterolf,  remembering  old  days : 
"  Pray  tell  us  what  thy  coming  means  to-day,— 
Shall  it  be  peace,  or  means  it  war  renewed?" 
"Yea,"  added  Walter,   "art  thou  friend   or 

foe?" 
And  others  cried:  "What,  may  he  come  as 

foe?" 

But  Wolfram,  largest,  freest  heart  of  all, 
Cried    out   in  generous  welcome  and  good 

cheer: 
"O  speak  not  such  harsh  words!  Look  at  his 

face! 

No  trace  of  scorn  and  hate  can  there  be  seen ! 
We  welcome  thee,  great  minstrel  and  brave 

knight! 

Alas,  too  long  hast  thou  been  lost  to  us!" 
Then  after  him  spake  Walter,  kindlier  now: 
"Yea,  welcome,  if  thou  comest  here  in  peace." 
And  Biterolf:  "Yea,  welcome,  if  a  friend." 
And  all:  "All  hail!  all  hail.  We  welcome  thee!" 

The  Landgrave  spake  again:  "Accept  our 

word,  — 

We  give  thee  hearty  welcome !  And  we  pray 
That  thou  wilt  tell  us  thy  adventurous  course: 


3|n  t!)0   Where  thou   hast   tarried   all   these  weary 

Mil  Of      months» 

I^EnUS  What  thou  hast  done  to  make  thy  heart  so 

Then    answered   slow    the   errant    minstrel 

knight: 
"In  strange  and  distant  realms  I  wandered 

far, 

But  never  found  I  joy,  or  rest  of  heart. 
Ask  me  no  further.  No  more  would  I  strive. 
Friendly  I  come.  Let  me  as  friend  depart." 

"  Nay,  thou  shalt  not  depart,"  the  Landgrave 

spake, 

"For  once  again  thou  hast  become  our  own!" 
And  Walter  urged:  "I  say,  thou  must  not  go!" 
And  Biterolf:  "We  will  not  let  thee  go!" 

Then  said  Tannhauser,  bitterly  and  slow, 
A  desperate  sadness  in  his  weary  eyes : 
"Let  me  depart!  I  cannot  tarry  here! 
Nowhere  on  earth  is  rest  for  me  again ! 
Forward  I  drive  in  doom  my  weary  way ! 
The  past  I  must  forget  for  evermore!" 
But  all  the  knights  exclaimed  as  with  one 

voice : 

"O,  stay  with  us!  forget  the  dreary  past! 
Here  in  thy  home  and  friends  thou  shalt  find 

rest! 
What  dost  thou  seek  with  vain  and  weary 

search? 
Abide  with  us!  We  cannot  say  farewell!" 


20 


But  though  their  words  were  generous  and 

kind, 
Naught  could  persuade  him  to  remain  and 

rest. 

Sadly  he  shook  his  head,  and  turned  to  go. 
Then  Wolfram  intercepted  him  and  cried, 
In  a  loud  voice,  and  gazing  in  his  face: 
"Listen!  one  word!  Stay  for  Elizabeth!" 

And  at  that  word,  Tannhauser  stopped,  his 

face 

Stirred  with  a  deep  emotion  as  he  spake: 
"Elizabeth!  O  blessed  love  of  Heaven! 
And  do  I  hear  that  sweetest  name  again?" 
And  Wolfram  answered:  "Yea,  no  foe  is  he 
Who  dares  recall  to  thee  that  blessed  name ! 
And  may  I  be  permitted,  gracious  lord, 
To  tell  him  of  the  splendid  prize  he  won?" 
Thereat  the  Landgrave  answered  graciously: 
"Yea,  tell  him  of  the  marvel  that  he  wrought 
In  that  last  famous  tournament  of  song 
Before  we  lost  him,  and  God  keep  him  true 
That  worthily  he  may  explain  his  fate." 

All  eager,  Wolfram  told  the  wondrous  tale : 
"When  thou  in  art  of  song  last  strove  with  us, 
Thy  conquering  strain  was  master  in  the  strife, 
Forwhile  our  songs  gained  some  small  victory, 
One  glorious  prize  was  won  alone  by  thee. 
Pray,  was  it  magic,  or  some  power  divine, 
That  wrought  through  thee  such  wondrous 

miracle? 

Thy  song,  so  full  of  mystic  joy  and  woe, 
Enthralled  the  perfect  flower  of  royal  maids; 

21 


3[U  tfrC    For  after  thou  in  scorn,  alas,  hadst  gone, 
Mil  Of   Closed  was  her  heart  to  all  our  brightest  lays. 
^  We  saw  a  sorrow  on  her  pallid  cheek; 

J    Of  thee  bereft,  she  wearied  of  our  songs. 

O  noble  minstrel,  come  and  sing  anewl 

Awake  once  more  thy  strain  of  joyous  love! 

Cast  off  the  burden  of  thy  cares  and  fears! 

And  her  fair  star  shall  brightly  shine  again!" 

And  many  knights  joined  in  with  eager  voice : 
"Yea,  Henry,  stay  with  us!  Come  back  again! 
We  will  forget  all  anger  and  all  strife; 
Our  strains  in  harmony  shall  rise  and  soar ; 
For  brothers  shall  we  be  for  evermore!" 

Touched  by  the  love  so  freely  given  again, 
Despite  his  absence  and  his  lame  excuse, 
Tannhauser  threw  himself  in  Wolfram's  arms 
And  long  embraced  him  as  a  faithful  friend, 
Greeted  the  other  minstrels  each  in  turn, 
And  bowed  before  the  Landgrave  gratefully. 
Then  with  a  longing,  eager  heart  he  cried : 
"Elizabeth!  O,  guide  my  steps  to  her! 
O  radiant  world  that  I  had  seemed  to  lose, 
Thou  smilest  once  again  upon  my  heart! 
O  sun  of  heaven,  hid  with  stormy  clouds, 
Again  thou  shinest  on  my  path  of  hope! 
O  beauteous  spring,  thy  thousand  carols  sweet 
Are  singing  in  my  soul  so  jubilant! 
O  heart,  my  heart,  in  new  unwonted  bliss 
Thou  art  rejoicing!  Blest  Elizabeth!" 

E'en  while  he  spake  came  many  hunters  more, 
The  Landgrave's  whole  vast  retinue  and  train, 
Until  the  valley  thronged  with  hunting-men, 
22 


Horses  and  falcon-bearers,  hounds  and  horns. 
Eager  the  men  came  at  the  Landgrave's  call, 
And  shouted  seeing  Tannhauser  again,  — 
Shouted  with  joy  to  learn  that  he  would  stay, 
And  grace  the  court  again  with  song  and 

sword. 

The  Landgrave  blew  a  blast  upon  his  horn, 
And  all  the  hunters  wound  their  horns  and 

blew; 
The  loud-mouthed  bugle  called,  the  baying 

hounds 

Made  answer,  eager,  deep  and  fiercely  strong. 
The  minstrels  flung  themselves  upon  their 

steeds,  — 

For  Tannhauser  a  white  steed,  prancing  proud  ; 
Joyful  the  whole  procession  galloped  on, 
Ascending  to  the  Wartburg's  wooded  heights, 
Where  dwelt  the  princess,  fair  Elizabeth, 
Beloved  of  all,  to  Tannhauser  thrice  dear. 
And  as  they  galloped  gaily  on  they  sang, 
Minstrels  and  hunters  joining  in  the  strain: 


rejoice!  he  comes  again! 
The  lost  is  found!  his  sorrow  past! 
Praise  to  the  love  that  heals  his  pain! 
Praise  to  the  might  that  holds  him  fast! 

"Awake  our  harps  and  sing  a  song! 

The  noblest  and  the  highest  dare! 
Praise  to  the  hero  great  and  strong  ! 

Praise  to  the  fairest  of  the  fair!" 


TANNHAUSER.  PART  II 


THE  TOURNAMENT  OF  SONG 

i RIM  is  the  towered  castle  on  the 

heights,— 

The  ancient  Wartburg,  immemorial 
In  noble  deeds  of  splendid  chivalry; 
Its  towers  have  held  embattled  armies  off; 
Its  bastions  have  turned  back  full  many  a 

siege; 

Its  dungeons  held  full  many  a  tragedy. 
And  here  within  the  lordly  castle  walls 
The  famous  Hall  of  Minstrels,  lofty  built 
With  groined  and  fretted   ceiling,  quaintly 

wrought, 

And  many  mullioned  windows  where  the  glass 
Shines  bravely  with  the  painted  deeds  of  old. 
And  here,  where  these  broad  windows  open 

wide, 

Is  seen  the  shaded  fountained  court  within, 
While  far  beyond,  the  smiling  valley  lies, 
And  still  beyond,  the  mountains,  range  on 

range. 

But  why  wears  now  the  hall  this  festive  air,— 
These  wreaths  of  flowers  and  long  festoons  of 

green? 
Perchance   some   special  day  of  thanks  or 

praise; 

Perchance  some  merry  dance  or  festival ; 
Perchance  some  knightly  deeds  are  done  to- 
day; 
Perchance  some  heroes  strive  with  sword  or 

song. 

Now  as  we  look  and  listen,  one  draws  near, 
Most  fair  efface,  most  winsome  in  her  grace,— 

27 


Her  dark  hair  like  a  lustrous  crown  of  night, 
Her  kind  gray  eyes  pure,  patient  and  all  wise, 
Yet  full  of  laughter  and  of  hidden  fire ; 
Her  coronet  of  shining  gold  and  pearls, 
Her  simple  gown  of  soft  cloth  like  the  snow, 
Her  neck  enwreathed  with  lustrous  strings  of 

pearl, 

Her  girdle  rich  with  gold  and  glittering  gems, 
Her  flowing  cloak,  soft  azure,  starred  with 

gold. 

It  is  the  Landgrave's  niece,  Elizabeth, 
A  niece  and  yet  a  daughter  unto  him,  — 
The  fairest,  sweetest  princess  at  his  court, 
And  best-belov'd,  and  noblest  of  them  all. 

Most  joyful  came  she  to  the  Minstrels'  Hall,— 
The  rosy  morning  light  within  her  eyes ; 
For  he  was  near,  the  dear  choice  of  her  heart, 
And  life  was  new  and  radiant  again. 
And  now  she  spake  what  her  fond  heart  would 

say: 

"Dear  hall  of  song,  I  greet  thee  with  my  love! 
I  greet  thee  with  all  joy,  thou  hallowed  place! 
'Twas  here  he  sang  that  wondrous  song  of 

love 
That   lifted   me    from  darksome  dreams  to 

heaven. 
But  ah!  how  soon  the  dream  was  changed 

again: 

This  Minstrel  Hall  became  a  desert  drear. 
When  he  went  forth,  all  joy  went  forth  with 

him; 
And  with  him  fled  my  heart's  deep  wealth  of 

peace. 
28 


But  now  once  more  my  bosom  heaves  with  ^TJ)0 

And  thou,  dear  Minstrel  Hall,  art  bright  again,  J 
For  he  who  lights  both  thee  and  me  with  joy  * 
No  longer  roams  afar  in  unknown  lands.  ^OH0 

These  vaults  shall  ring  again  with  glorious 


song 


He  comes  whose  strains  bring  rapture  to  my 
soul!" 

Scarce  had  she  spoken,  when  two  minstrels 

came,  — 

Tannhauser,  led  by  Wolfram's  loyal  hand. 
Upon  the  threshold  paused  they,  as  they  saw 
The  fair  sweet  vision  of  the  princess  there. 
Then  Wolfram  whispered:  "See, -Elizabeth! 
Draw  near  and  greet  her!  None  shall  inter- 
rupt!" 

And  near  the  door  he  stood,  as  sentinel, 
While    forward    rushed    Tannhauser  in   all 

haste, 

And  threw  himself  impetuously  down 
Before  Elizabeth,  and  faintly  cried : 
"  O  Princess ! "  and  could  speak  no  further  word. 

While  she,  confused  by  all  this  sudden  cry 
And  sudden  show  of  feeling  from  the  knight 
Whom  long  she  cherished  in  her  secret  heart, 
Spake  quickly:  "Nay,  thou  must  not  kneel  to 

me, 

Nor  dare  I  meet  thee  thus!  I  must  away!" 
And  she  would  go.  But  still  he  pleaded  sore: 
"Nay,  dare  to  stay.  I  pray  thee,  do  not  go! 
O,  let  me  kneel  forever  at  thy  feet!" 

29 


(£()0          Then  to  his  prayers  Elizabeth  gave  heed, 
flTnurtia-And  kindly  turning  toward  him,  gently  said: 

*m  nf '"*  pray  thee'  rise<  Tis  not  for  thee  to  kneel 
*  "*   Here  in  this  hall  which  crowned  thy  triumphs 

§>0n0          oft; 

Rise,  I  implore !  I  give  best  thanks  to  Heaven 
That  thou  hast  come  again  to  stay  with  us. 
Where  hast  thou  tarried  all  this  weary  time?" 

And  rising  slow,  Tannhauser  soft  replied : 
"Far,  far  away  in  strange  and  distant  lands; 
But  o'er  it  all,  oblivion  has  come. 
Between  to-day  and  yesterday  a  veil 
Which  blots  out  all  remembrance  of  the  past, 
Save  one  thing  only  in  my  constant  thought— 
The  awful  bitterness  and  dark  despair 
Lest  I  might  never  hope  to  greet  thee  more, 
Nor  see  thy  fair  face  with  my  weary  eyes." 

Gently  she  asked,  all  kindness  in  her  voice : 
"What  was  it,  then,  that  led  thee  back  to  us?" 
And  he  replied:  "A  miracle  it  was, 
Strange,  inconceivable,  by  Heaven  wrought!" 
And  stirred  to  deep  emotions  by  his  word, 
She  spake  again  her  secret  inner  thought, 
Revealing  with  all  innocence  and  grace 
The  fondest  hopes  of  her  pure  virgin  heart : 
"  Praise  God  for  this  dear  miracle  of  grace ! 
I  say  it  from  my  heart's  profoundest  depths.... 
Forgive  me !  Scarce  I  know  what  I  have  said ; 
In  dreams  I  seem,  and  foolish  as  a  child ; 
Thy  presence  is  such  gladness  to  my  soul, 
Such  vision  strange  of  life,  mysterious,  high. 


30 


The  world  to  me  is  changed.  What  can  it 

mean,  COUtnfl= 

This  riddle,  this  emotion  of  my  heart?  tTT£nt  Of 

Always  I  loved  the  merry  minstrels'  songs,        ^ 
And  listened  with  delight  so  oft  and  long; 
Always  their  stirring  songs  and  noble  praise 
Held  for  my  soul  a  fascinating  spell; 
Yet  I  confess,  that  wondrous  song  of  thine 
Has  wakened  in  my  heart  a  strange  new  life; 
Repose  and  joy  have  seemed  to  fly  from  me ; 
And  there  have  come  the  bitterest  pangs  and 

bliss, 

Emotions  which  I  cannot  comprehend, 
And  longings  which  I  never  knew  before. 
What  once  to  me  was  lovely  now  is  changed, 
And  fled  are  all  my  former  dear  delights. 
Yea,  when  thou  hadst  departed  from  our  midst, 
My  peace  was  gone,  and  longing  went  with 

thee. 

No  more  the  minstrels  woke  my  heart  to  joy; 
Their  finest  lays  seemed  sad  and  strange  and 

dead; 
In  slumber's  dreams  my  heart  was  full  of 

pain; 

In  waking  hours  a  train  of  woeful  thoughts. 
All  gladness  had  departed  from  my  life,— 
O  Henry,  tell!  Why  am  I  thus  enthralled?" 

Tannhauser,  in  all  rapture,  quick  rejoined: 
"Yea,  God  be  praised  for  all  his  loving  grace ! 
Love  touched  my  heart  with  magic  melody; 
Love  spake  to  thee  through  all  ,the  wondrous 

song! 

Twas  love  that  led  me  captive  to  thy  feet  I 

31 


C|)C  O  blessed  hour  in  which  our  hearts  do  meet ! 

COUtna*  °  blessed  power  of  love  that  fills  our  lives! 

merit  Of     At  last  l  give  thee  greeting  from  my  soul, 

Ji;  And  gladly  vow  to  leave  thee  nevermore! 

Now  shall  my  life  awake  renewed  and  strong; 
Now  shall  new  peace  and  hope  rise  in  my 

breast; 
Now  shall  the  clouds  of  sorrow  break  and 

pass,— 

For  glorious  the  sun  of  love  doth  shine!" 
And  Wolfram,  hearing  all  this  rapturous  word, 
And  fair  Elizabeth  confessing  love, 
Spake  to  his  heart,  for  he  had  also  loved : 
"So  flies  my  last  fond  hope  of  winning  her! 
So  fades  my  dream.  Yet  may  their  life  be  blest ! " 

A  moment  stood  the  lovers  in  farewell, 
Looking  with  rapture  in  each  other's  eyes, 
And  touching  hands  that  trembled  in  delight. 
Lifting  her  hand,  he  kissed  it  with  an  awe 
That  he  should  dare  to  touch  so  pure  a  thing,  — 
Then  turned  and  left  her.  Straight  to  Wolfram 

turned, 

And  held  him  to  his  heart  in  gratitude,— 
Not  dreaming  of  the  pain  in  Wolfram's  heart, 
Or  of  the  sacrifice  of  friend  for  friend. 
Together  from  the  hall  they  quickly  went, 
Tannhauser  looking  back  and  waving  oft 
To  her  who  watched  him  from  the  balcony, 
His  dear  Elizabeth,  his  new  life's  hope! 

Soon  were  more  footsteps  heard,  and  presently 
The  Landgrave  came  to  meet  his  loving  niece, 


And  welcome   there  the   throngs  of  happy 

guests 

Who  soon  would  come  to  grace  the  war  of 

Elizabeth  ran  to  him  as  he  came, 
And  hid  her  blushing  face  upon  his  breast. 
Then  spake  he,  in  a  kindly  bantering  way: 
"Most  gladly  do  I  find  thee  in  this  hall 
Which  thou  hast  shunned  these  many  months. 

And  pray, 

What  lured  thee  now  from  thy  long  solitude 
To  come  and  grace  our  feast  of  song  to-day?" 
And  clinging  to  him,  softly  answered  she : 
"My  sovereign  uncle,  father,  yea,  my  all!" 
Still  smiling,  and  most  kindly  then  he  spake: 
"Come,  open  now  thy  secret  heart  to  me." 
But  looking  up,  most  sweetly  came  her  words : 
"Gaze  in  my  eyes  and  read.  I  cannot  speak." 

Then  looked  he  earnestly,  and  saw  love's  light 
Deep  in  the  wonder  of  her  tender  eyes, 
And  answered:  "Yea,  unspoken  let  it  be, 
This  loving  secret  of  thy  holiest  life. 
Let  all  its  magic  sweetness  be  untold, 
Till  thou  thyself  shalt  bid  it  to  unclose. 
So  shall  it  be.  The  wondrous  flame  of  song 
To-day  shall  soar  to  heights  unknown  before,  — 
Thy  presence  shall  give  life  and  crown  to  all. 
The  glorious  art  shall  match  the  glorious  deed. 
To-day  our  nobles  will  assemble  here,  — 
Already  they  approach  to  grace  the  feast. 
None  will  be  absent,  for  they  all  have  heard 
That   thy   fair   hand   will   give   the   victor's 
wreath. 

33 


C3)0          ^ea»  some  may  hope  for  thy  fair  hand  itself,— 
OUtnS1  *^^e  l°ve^est  Prize  that  this  wide  world  could 

mentor    give*" 

^0  ng       And  as  they  spoke,  the  trumpets  sounded  forth 
The  near  beginning  of  the  tournament. 
The  Landgrave  and  the  fair  Elizabeth, 
Under  a  gorgeous  canopy  of  state, 
And  high  upon  a  dais  brave  arranged, 
Waited  the  coming  of  the  happy  guests. 
Four  pages  made  announcement  of  the  names, 
While  counts  and  ladies,  knights  and  retinues, 
Each  noble  holding  his  fair  lady's  hand, 
Were  welcomed  by  the  Landgrave  and  his 

niece 

With  gracious  greetings  and  a  smiling  joy. 
And  in  response  of  greeting  sang  the  knights : 

AIL,  noble  hall,  where  song  the  heart 
rejoices, 

May  lays  of  peace  within  thee  never  fail ! 
Long  may  we  cry  with  glad  and  loyal  voices: 
Thuringia's  Prince,  great  Landgrave  Her- 
mann, hail!" 

Then  the  assembly  took  the  seats  assigned, 
Forming  a  large  half  circle,  brilliant,  gay 
With  beauty,  valor,  gladness  and  renown ; 
Gorgeous  the  men's  gay  garments  and  bright 

plumes, 

And  fair  the  ladies,  with  their  flowery  gowns, 
And  golden  circlets  round  their  radiant  brows, 
And  flowing  veils  of  airy  waving  length. 
And  soon  the  minstrels  entered  walking  slow, 
With  dignity  and  glory  in  their  steps ; 
34 


Each  brow  encircled  with  a  laurel  wreath,— 
Except  Tannhauser's,  for  his  wreath  was  lost 
By  forfeiture  of  absence  from  the  court. 
Right  gaily  were  they  clad  in  garb  of  song; 
Each  minstrel  bore  his  silver-stringed  harp, 
While  gleaming  sword  hung  fiercely  at  each 

side; 

Stately  they  bowed  to  the  assembled  guests, 
And  took  their  places  as  the  pages  led. 

These  were  the  minstrels,— each  a  man   of 

fame: 

Wolfram  von  Eschenbach,  a  churchly  soul ; 
And  Biterolf,  an  honest  old  gray  wolf; 
And  Walter,  von  der  Vogelweide  called ; 
Heinrich  der  Schreiber,  poet  of  renown; 
Reinmar    von    Zweter,     scholar,     minstrel, 

knight; 

But  Tannhauser,  the  last  to  grace  the  hall, 
Was  greatest  of  them  all  in  gifts  and  grace, 
Noble  in  bearing,  every  inch  a  prince, 
A  glorious  noble  and  a  valiant  knight. 

Rising,  the  Landgrave  spake  these  gracious 

words : 
"Welcome,  brave  knights  and  minstrels,  to 

these  halls, 

Where  oft  and  nobly  have  ye  sung  of  yore 
In  wisdom  veiled,  perchance  in  mirthful  vein, 
Yet  ever  gladdened  every  listening  heart. 
Ye  kfiights  have  fought  with  swords,— now 

fight  with  songs. 
Yea,  tho'  your  swords  were  loosed  in  bloody 

fray, 

35 


C3)0  Drawn  to  uphold  the  German  fatherland, 

STOUtHfl*  When  with  our  southern  foe  we  fought  and 
won, 

fifcri   iv        And  for  our  country  braved  the  heroes'  death, 
Yet  to  the  harp  be  equal  meed  of  praise ; 
For  with  the  harp  and  voice  ye  nobly  fight 
For  truth  and  honor  and  the  happy  home, 
For  virtue  and  for  pure  and  noble  faith,  — 
And  gain  for  these  most  gracious  victory  1 
Ye  come  to-day  for  festival  of  song, 
And  I  would  make  it  festival  of  joy ; 
For  here  to-day  our  gallant  minstrel  comes 
Whom  for  so  long  and  woefully  we  missed. 
We  welcome  him,  although  his  blest  return 
In  some  mysterious  darkness  still  is  wrapped,  — 
Perchance  the  magic  power  of  song  will  tell. 
Therefore  hear  now  the  theme  I  set  for  you : 
The  theme  is  Love,  its  nature  and  its  ways: 
How  may  we  know  it?  what  are  its  sure  signs? 
And  know  ye,  —  for  I  say  it  solemnly,  — 
He  who  most  wisely  and  most  worthily 
Sings  thus  of  Love,  most  lofty  and  most  true, 
To  him  the  Princess  shall  award  the  prize. 
He  may  demand  the  fairest  guerdon  known,  — 
I  vouch  that  what  he  asks  shall  granted  be. 
Up  then,  ye  gallant  minstrels!  Tune  your 

harps 

And  sing  the  praise  of  Love.  Great  is  the  prize, 
And  ere  the  start,  let  all  receive  our  thanks!" 

Then  cried  the  knights  and  all  the  throng  of 

guests: 

"Hail!  yea,  thrice  hail!  Lord  of  Thuringia! 
Hail!  patron  of  the  noble  art  of  song!" 
36 


Then  all  were  seated,  and  four  pages  came 

Up-gathering  in  a  golden  cup  the  names 

Of  all  the  minstrels.  With  a  lowly  bow 

They  handed  it  to  fair  Elizabeth, 

Who  stood  as  priestess  of  the  sacred  lots. 

She  put  her  fairy  fingers  in  the  cup, 

And  drew  therefrom  the  fateful  written  slip 

Whereon  was  writ  his  name  who  first  should 

sing 

In  this  fair  tournament  of  royal  song. 
Quickly  the  waiting  pages  took  the  slip, 
Advanced  with  ceremony  to  the  midst, 
And  read  the  name  to  all  the  company: 
"Wolfram  von  Eschenbach  begins  the  song!" 

Then  at  the  Landgrave's  feet  the  pages  sat, 
While  fair  Elizabeth,  a  radiant  queen, 
Filled  all  the  room  with  subtle  sheen  of  light, 
So  wondrous  was  her  gentle  beauty's  power, 
So  glorious  the  sweetness  of  her  face. 
Apart  Tannhauser  sat  as  if  entranced, 
And  leaned  in  solemn  thought  upon  his  harp. 
Brave  Wolfram  rose,  full  of  a  joy  divine 
That  he  was  called  to  sing  the  praise  of  love. 
His  eyes  shone  brightly  as  he  tuned  his  harp; 
His  noble  face  revealed  his  noble  heart. 
Softly  and  sweet  his  happy  song  began : 

RAVE  knights  and  ladies,  ye  delight 
mine  eyes! 
Such  fair  assemblies  grace  no  other  land ; 
Such  gallant  heroes,  valiant,  noble,  wise,  — 
They  seem  a  stately  forest,  strong  and  grand. 


37 


(£j)0  "And  blooming  in  this  forest,  wondrous,  sweet, 

^DOUtn&s     These  dames  and  maidens  are  the  flowers 

merit  Of   Such  nobieness  and  beauty  here  doth  meet, 
My  song  is  mute  before  the  vision  rare. 

"Then  I  look  upward  and  behold  one  star 
That  shines  above  the  forest,  clear  in  hea- 
ven; 

It  gathers  tender  radiance  from  afar, 
And  to  my  heart  one  holy  prayer  is  given. 

"But  lo!  the  forest's  spring,  life's  spring,  is 

Love, 
From  whose  unfathomed  depths  all  joy  doth 

flow. 

My  spirit  gazes  deep,  thanks  God  above, 
And  all  my  life  feels  new  ethereal  glow ! 

"Oh,  never  would  I  sully  that  pure  spring 
By  vain  desire,  or  dark  impurity ; 

Kneeling,  I  worship  thee,  O  Love !  and  sing, 
And  for  thee  only,  will  I  live  or  die. 

"  Brave  knights  and  ladies,  thus  I  sing  to  you 
What  I  have  felt  of  love,  love  pure  and  true!" 

His  eye  had  rested  on  Elizabeth 
When  he  had  sung  of  her  as  star  of  love. 
T  was  human  love  he  sang  with  fervent  soul, 
But  love  made  glorious  by  its  purity. 
Applauding  him,  the  knights  and  ladies  cried: 
"Tis  true!  'tis  true!  We  praise  thy  noble 
song!" 

38 


Then  Tannhauser  arose  as  from  a  dream, 
Arid  looked  around  defiant,  fierce  and  wild. 
Gazing  a  moment  into  far-off  space, 
A  passionate  delight  shone  on  his  face; 
With  trembling  hands  his  harp-strings  close  he 

felt; 

A  strange  unearthly  smile  upon  his  lips, 
As  if  some  magic  music  thralled  his  soul ; 
Nor  knew  he  where  he  was,  nor  seemed  to 

care 

That  fair  Elizabeth  was  looking  down 
With  doubt  and  wonder  in  her  troubled  face. 
Then  with  a  start,  he  loudly  swept  his  harp, 
And  sang  in  strangest  mood  an  answering 

song: 

WOLFRAM,foolish  is  thy  pallid  song; 
Ne'er  hast  thou  tasted  love  or  deepest 
bliss; 
Thy  timid  heart  and  smooth  and  stammering 

tongue 
Make  life  and  love  a  dreary  weariness. 

"Thou  singest  Love,  ethereal,  dim  and  pure,— 
A  limpid  spring,  a  far-off  shining  star! 

Such  bloodless  love  my  heart  cannot  endure,— 
Love  is  no  limpid  spring,  nor  star  afar. 

"Love  is  fair  flesh  in  beauteous  human  form, 
With   laughing    eyes    and    softest    silken 
tresses, 

With  kisses,  and  a  throbbing  breast,  and  warm 
Soft  clinging  arms  for  tenderest  caresses. 


39 


-HP 


"Love  is  no  vision,  far-off,  chaste,  divine,  — 
Love's  a  hot  heart  that  beats  and  throbs  with 

mentof     raine!" 

And  at  that  interruption  rude  and  wild,  — 
For  yet  Tannhauser  had  no  call  to  speak, 
But  broke  the  rules  and  blurted  out  his  heart, 
Full  of  a  frenzy  fierce  and  passionate, 
Bringing  a  discord  to  all  harmony,  — 
The  people  in  a  consternation  rose, 
And  fair  Elizabeth  in  wild  amaze 
Looked  on  the  knight  intoxicate  with  lust. 
Then  Biterolf,  another  minstrel  knight, 
Him  answered,  speaking  in  the  fiercest  wrath: 

»E  challenge  thee,  for  who  could  silent 
be 

Enduring  thy  vile  speech  and  insults  free? 
Thy  pride  hath  reached  its  lowest  ebb  this 

day; 
Thou  shameless  slanderer  of  Love,  away! 

"When  holy  Love  inspires  our  heart  to  song, 
New  valor  makes  the  heart  and  sword  more 

strong; 
Unshamed  remains  its  spell  most  pure,  most 

high, 
And  for  its  glory  would  I  gladly  die ! 

"  For  gracious  womanhood  and  honor  true, 
Through  fire  and  flood  would  I  my  way  pursue ! 
But  love's  low  pleasures  and  the  joys  of  lust— 
I  scorn  them  worthless  as  the  worthless  dust." 


40 


Then  knights  and  ladies  cried  in  great  ap- 

plause: 

"Bravo,  brave  Biterolf!  We  stand  with  thee!" 
But  fiercer  grew  Tannhauser.  Flashed  his  eyes  *J 
With  angry  passion  and  exultant  joy, 
And  in  a  storm  of  wrath  he  answered  wild : 

vaunt,  thou  senseless  babbler,  Biterolf! 
Thou  canst  not  sing  fair  love,  thou 
grim  old  wolf! 
On    thy    rough    heart    its   sweetness  never 

gleamed,  — 

The  bliss  that  I  have  known  thou  ne'er  hast 
dreamed. 

"Poor  pallid  soul,  unfit  for  bliss  or  woe, 
What  rapture  could  thy  thin  blood  ever  know? 
The  gentle  thrills  of  joy  thy  weak  love  brings 
Are  worthless  as  the  song  thy  harp  now  sings!" 

Stirred  to  a  tumult,  all  the  knights  cried  out: 
"Let  him  not  end.  He  is  beside  himself! 
We  will  not  hear  his  daring  madness  more!" 
While  Biterolf  in  anger  drew  his  sword. 
Then  spake  the  Landgrave,  quelling  all  the 

strife, 
"Put  back  thy  sword!  Ye  minstrels,  keep  the 

peace ! 

Go  forward  with  our  tournament  of  song! 
Wolfram,  sing  now  thy  final  song  to  Love!" 

And  Wolfram  rose  amid  a  stillness  deep, 
While  with  an  upward  glance  for  Heaven's 

smile, 
He  sang  the  closing  of  his  noble  song: 


CfcC          "T^  ALLOW  my  song,  O  Heaven,  with 

•*»£•  holy  art, 
nf       For  noblest  Love  it    sings,    for    Love    it 

strives; 

Banished  all  sin  and  evil  from  our  heart, 
Let  purity  and  honor  fill  our  lives ! 

"O  highest,  holiest  Love,  I  sing  thy  praise! 

Immortal  fire,  God's  glory  in  a  kiss ! 
Upon  thee,  angel  beautiful,  I  gaze; 

Deep  in  my  soul,  I  feel  thy  perfect  bliss. 

"Thou  earnest  like  a  god  from  heaven  down; 

I  follow  thee  most  reverent  and  afar; 
I  see  all  joys  and  graces  as  thy  crown ; 

0  Love   divine,   in   heaven  the  brightest 
star!" 

Then  once  again  Tannhauser  swept  his  harp, 
Exalted  into  madness  fierce  and  strong; 
Invoked  the  memory  of  past  delights, 
And  of  the  evil  goddess  of  his  heart ; 
And  in  the  very  melody  and  mood, 
When  he  had  sung  to  Venus  his  last  song, 
Broke  out  in  blasts  of  stormy  rhapsody 
Of  strangest  frenzy,  passionate  and  wild : 

QUEEN  of  Love,  immortal  fame  at- 
tend  thee! 

1  sing  thy  praise,  for  I  have  known  thy  heart ! 
Gorgeous  the  beauty,  which  all  grace  doth 

lend  thee! 

Fount  of  all  rapture,  fiery  Love  thou  art! 
O  burning  bliss  of  rapture  in  thy  kisses! 
This,  this  is  Love !  All  else  is  drear  and  cold. 

42 


Away,  dull  mortals,  prating  of  love's  blisses! 
Draw  near  the  hill  of  Venus  and  behold!" 

And  as  he  uttered  "Venus!"  name  accurst, 
A  cry  of  horror  burst  from  every  throat: 
"Ah,  desperate  madman!  let  him  quick  be 

gone! 

Hear  his  vile  words !  He  hath  with  Venus  been ! 
Away  his  loathed  presence  from  our  sight!" 

In  dire  dismay  the  ladies  rose  and  ran, 
Shrinking  away  from  this  attainted  wretch ; 
A  nameless  terror  thrilled  them  through  and 

through ; 

They  crowded  from  the  hall  in  frantic  haste. 
Tannhauser  hurled  his  harp  upon  the  floor, 
With  crashing  stroke  that  cried  out  like  a 

shriek. 
Each  minstrel's  sword  leaped  from  its  angry 

sheath; 

It  seemed  as  if  a  thunderclap  had  struck 
The  dreadful  day  of  discord  and  of  doom. 
Elizabeth  in  horror  turned  away, 
Yet  stood  in  fresh  anxiety  and  fear, 

Her  soul  athrob  in  agony  of  tears 

It  was  an  awful  moment,  great  with  fate, 
Wrath,  clamor,  shouting,  and  a  horror  deep. 

Quickly  the  minstrels  left  their  seats,  and  now 
Had  gathered  round  the  Landgrave  and  the 

knights ; 

Distress  and  wrath  upon  their  faces  glowered 
As  fierce  they  looked  at  Tannhauser,  who  stood 
Defiant  and  alone,  with  passion  mad. 

43 


{£|)0  Then  cried  the  knights  for  desperate  revenge : 

Snotltna'  "^^6  dark  avowal  of  his  shame  ye  hear! 

His  own  lips  insolent  confess  his  guilt! 
*  Of     He  hath  been  partner  in  the  lust  of  hell, 
^>0n0        And  paramour  of  Venus  in  vile  love! 

Abominable!  shameless!  thrice-accurst! 

These    swords    shall    drink    thy   worthless 
traitor-blood ! 

Go  back  in  shame  to  hell's  most  loathsome  pit, 

And  be  anathema  for  evermore!" 

They  pressed  Tannhauser  with  their  glittering 

swords, 

And  in  a  moment  would  have  slain  him  there, 
As  shameless  traitor  to  his  sacred  vows, 
Had  not  Elizabeth  rushed  quick  between, 
And  saved  the  victim  from  the  fierce  assault 
With  the  loud  cry:  "Stay  ye!  hold  back  your 

swords!" 

And  as  they  halted  in  a  wondering  maze, 
The  Landgrave  spake,  reproof  was  in  his  voice : 
"Elizabeth!  What  foolish  deed  is  this,— 
Thou  chastest  maiden  shielding  such  vile  sin?" 
But  still  she  stood  her  ground  and  answered 

them, 

Hiding  Tannhauser's  body  with  her  own: 
"Stand  back!  or  pierce  this  bosom  with  your 

swords ! 

Death  and  its  terrors  cannot  crush  me  now, 
For  he  hath  struck  me  a  far  deadlier  wound." 

Again  the  Landgrave  spake:  "Elizabeth, 
Scarce  can  I  listen  to  thy  gentle  words. 

44 


How  comes  thy  purest  heart  thus  deep  en- 
thralled 

To  pity  him  so  shameless  and  so  vile? 
Such  base  betrayer  needs  thy  fiercest  scorn!" 
But  still  she  shielded  him  and  pleading  spoke: 
"Think  not  of  me!  For  I  would  save  his  soul. 
He  must  not  be  accurst  eternally. 
And  now  I  ask  you  with  my  woman's  heart, 
Ye  would  not  rob  him  of  eternal  hope?" 

Then  spake  the  Landgrave  sternly  with  slow 

words : 

"This  madman  casts  away  all  hope  of  heaven, 
And  such  as  he  can  never  be  redeemed ! 
A  sin  like  his  thrusts  him  beyond  the  pale! 
Upon  him  rests  forever  Heaven's  curse!" 

And  once  again  they  sought  to  take  his  life, 
But  she  still  held  them  off  and  loudly  cried: 
"Away  from  him!  Ye  cannot  be  his  judge! 
O  be  not  cruel !  Put  aside  your  swords, 
And  listen  to  a  spotless  maiden's  prayer! 
Let  Heaven  declare  through  me  its  holy  will! 
The  hapless  mortal  who  hath  been  ensnared 
By  some  mysterious  maze  and  toil  of  sin,  — 
How  dare  you  say  he  may  not  win  again 
Salvation  through  deep  pain  and  penitence? 
Ye  who  are  such  believers  in  God's  truth, 
Ye  cannot  now  deny  His  highest  word! 
Speak,  would  you  rob  a  sinner  of  his  hope, 
In  His  name,  who  was  hope  and  mercy's  self? 
Behold  me !  how  my  tender  heart  is  crushed. 
Yon  knight  has  struck  my  life  with  cruel  blow, 
For  this  true  heart  did  love  him  faithfully, 

45 


^£J)0  And  now  is  hurled  to  darkest  depths  of  woe. 

(ETOUtHfl-  ^et  ^°  *  Pray  ^or  kim>  O  sPare  his  life! 
.     f     Give  him,  I  pray,  the  chance  of  penitence! 
Renew  in  him  a  ray  of  faith  and  hope! 
Tell  him  for  sinners  the  dear  Saviour  died!" 

And  as  she  spake,  Tannhauser  seemed  to  hear, 
His  frenzy  left  him;  he  grew  calm  again. 
Then  as  his  reason  came,  he  wept  in  pain 
And  fell  upon  the  floor  in  agony 
With  moans:  "Woe,  woe  is  me!  Forever  lost!" 

After  a  space,  the  quiet  came  again, 

For  hearts  were  deeply  touched  by  her  appeal. 

Then  spake  the  Landgrave  with  a  trembling 

voice : 

"Methinks  an  angel  from  the  highest  heaven 
Has  come  and  brought  us  God's  own  holy  word. 
Behold,  thou  despicable,  thou  shameless  one, 
This  noble  maiden  thou  hast  sinned  against! 
Thou  gavest  hurt  to  her,  as  cruel  as  death, 
Yet  prays  she  for  thy  worthless  life  and  soul. 
Who  would   not  yield,  hearing  such  angel 

prayer? 

Dare  I  to  hold  the  guilty  unforgiven 
When  Heaven's  message  shows  a  door  of  hope  ? 
Yea,  thy  dread  crime  forgiveness  yet  may  find, 
And  in  God's  name,  I  bid  thee  live  and  hope!" 

Still  lying  prone  in  sorrow  and  remorse, 
Weeping,  Tannhauser  uttered  the  deep  prayer : 
"An  angel  from  God's  heaven  was  sent  to  me 
To  save  my  sinful  soul  from  lowest  hell! 
And  O!  with  desperate  insolence  of  sin 
I  dared  to  raise  my  lecherous  eyes  to  her. 
46 


Elizabeth  pleads  for  Tannhauser 


O  Thou  most  merciful  to  human  sin,  CbC 

This  angel  comes  from  Thee  to  save  my  soul!   C^OUtnfl: 
Have  mercy  on  me,  deep  in  sin  I  cry,  tttltU  Of 

Give  grace  of  Heaven  to  my  dark  despair!" 

In  agony,  Tannhauser  rushed  to  them, 

Imploring  each  to  plunge  the  glittering  sword 

Into  his  heart,  and  end  his  misery. 

But  none  would  slay  him  after  her  fair  prayer. 

Into  the  midst  the  Landgrave  gravely  stepped, 

And  spake  his  sentence,  hard  but  merciful: 

"Ye  see  a  deed  most  shameless  come  to  light! 

There  stole  among  us,  in  a  treacherous  mask, 

A  foul  and  thrice-accursed  child  of  sin. 

We  now  disown  him,  ban  and  banish  him ; 

By  him  our  threshold  pure  is  stained  with 
shame, 

And  harboring  him  too  long,  the  wrath  of  Hea- 
ven 

May  justly  strike  if  we  deal  light  with  sin. 

Know,  wretched  one,  to  keep  thee  from  thy 
doom, 

One  path  alone  can  save  thy  guilty  soul. 

This  path  I  show  thee.  Seek,  and  save  thy  soul ! 

To-day  a  band  of  pilgrim  penitents 

Have  gathered  from  all  parts  of  my  domain. 

The  older  ones  already  have  set  forth ; 

The  younger  rest  them  in  the  vale  below. 

'T  is  not  for  darkest  crimes  like  thine  they  go, 

But  only  common  daily  faults  and  sins; 

Desire  for  heavenly  grace  is  in  their  souls, 

And  so  they  seek  the  sacred  shrine  at  Rome. 

Go  with  these  pilgrims  to  the  holy  place! 

Kneel  in  the  dust  and  there  atone  thy  sin! 

47 


Bow  unto  him  who  holds  the  keys  of  heaven, 
COUtna*   The  sovereign  Pontiff  of  the  Church  of  God. 
tttClU  Of     But  come  not  back  unless  he  shall  forgive, 
^pHfl         And  thou  canst  bring  the  open  sign  of  shrift. 
Yea,  we  resign  the  vengeance  in  our  heart, 
Because  this  maiden  like  an  angel  prayed ; 
Butshouldstthou  loiter  still  in  sin  and  shame,— 
Beware!  a  sword  shall  find  thy  guilty  heart!" 

Then  fair  Elizabeth  up-breathed  this  prayer: 
"O  God  of  grace,  be  merciful  to  him! 
Though  deep  and  dark  his  sin,  forgive,  I  pray! 
For  him  I  do  beseech,  my  whole  life  cries,  — 
Let  him  not  sink  in  night,  but  see  Thy  light! 
O  God,  to  save  his  soul  I  give  myself,  — 
In  willing  sacrifice  I  give  Thee  all ! 
Henceforth  I  hide  me  in  the  cloistered  walls, 
With  nuns  of  God  and  sisters  of  the  poor, 
To  mingle  prayers  to  Thee  with  loving  deeds 
And  plead  forever  for  his  guilty  soul. 
Take  my  whole  life!  I  call  it  mine  no  more!" 

Full  bitterly  Tannhauser  prayed  again : 
"O  where  shall  I  find  mercy  for  my  sin, 
And  how  atone  for  this  mine  awful  guilt? 
All  hope  hath  vanished  from  my  sorrowing 

soul; 

God's  grace  hath  gone  and  left  me  deep  de- 
spair. 

Yet  will  I  turn  my  steps  in  penitence, 
And  beat  my  breast  in  sorrow  for  my  sin, 
And  kneel  in  dust  before  the  throne  of  grace. 
Accurst  forever  be  my  guilty  lust! 
O,  that  thou  also  might  forgive  my  guilt, 

48 


Thou  heavenly  angel  of  my  heart's  last  hope! 

So  cruelly  and  basely  wronged  by  me, 

Who  yet  can  give  thyself  in  sacrifice!"  tttgnt  Of 

Then  as  he  knelt  in  heartfelt  penitence 
He  heard  again  the  early  morning  chant 
Solemn,  majestic  in  the  twilight  vale. 
Full  soon  a  band  of  pilgrims  came  in  sight, 
And  fair  Elizabeth  with  upraised  hand 
Pointed  to  them  as  to  a  happy  sign. 
Nearer  they  came,  she  heard  the  solemn  words, 
And  bade  him  listen  to  their  holy  hymn : 

"Unto  the  holy  shrine  we  go,— 
Thrice  blessed  they  who  pardon  know,  — 
To  seek  the  peace  of  God's  own  word, 
By  penitence  before  their  Lord." 

Tannhauser  heard,  and  started  suddenly,  — 
A  ray  of  hope  had  lighted  in  his  soul. 
Down  at  the  feet  of  dear  Elizabeth 
He  threw  himself  in  agony  of  tears, 
Devoutly  kissing  her  fair  garment's  hem ; 
Then  rising  up  again,  he  broke  away 
To  follow  with  the  pilgrims,  crying  loud : 
"To  Rome!  to  Rome!" 

And  all  call  after  him, 
Landgrave  and  minstrels,  knights  and  nobles 

all, 

And  fair  Elizabeth  with  tearful  eyes, 
A  prayer  and  hope  uprising  in  their  hearts: 
"To  Rome!  to  Rome!  God  grant  him  grace  at 

Rome!" 


49 


TANNHAUSER.  PART  III 


>PE'S  PARDON 

HE  sunset  of  a  glorious  autumn  day 

Flings  out  effulgence,  purple  and  red 
gold; 

The  sky  is  an  apocalypse  of  light, 
The  open  portals  of  a  radiant  heaven. 
There  are  the  towers  and  pinnacles  and  domes 
Of  the  celestial  city  of  the  clouds; 
While  far  beyond    gleam    summits    snowy- 
capped 

Of  silver  mountains  lustrous  with  the  light, 
And  shining  lakes  of  that  immortal  land 
Of  shimmering  glory  in  the  sunset  skies. 
Nearer  at  hand  the  massive  rocky  height 
And  strong-built  castle  of  the  Wartburg  stand, 
And  to  the  left,  that  mount  of  heathen  wiles, 
That  frowning  dreariness,  the  Horselberg. 

Here  in  the  valley  where  the  autumn  leaves 
Are  thick  with  color  stands  the  Virgin's  shrine 
For  roadside  worship,  and  before  it  now 
A  woman  knelt  in  prayer.  In  sorrow  deep 
And  sore  distress,  she  wrung  her  hands  and 

wept, 
Clothed  all  in  white,  like  some  fair  cloistered 

nun, 

In  penitential  robe  of  purity, 
With  sorrows  whitening  even  her  white  soul. 

Lo!  'twas  the  fair  Elizabeth  who  wept, 
Heartsick  for  love  betrayed  and  hope  deferred. 

And  now  another  figure  came  in  sight, 
Descending  from  the  wooded  mountain  heights 
Along  a  path  that  led  him  to  the  shrine. 

53 


'Twas  that  brave  knight,  Wolfram  von  Esch- 

enbach; 
13tU*D011  Slowly  ^e  walked  as  if  in  heavy  thought. 

Sudden  he  saw  the  fair  Elizabeth, 
And  stopped  a  moment,  murmuring  to  himself: 
"See  where  she  kneels  by  yonder  sacred  shrine 
In  fervent  prayer!  Yea,  often  is  she  there. 
For  thus  I  see  her,  as  I  wind  my  way— 
Sad  way  and  lonely  these  dull,  weary  days  — 
Down  the  far  valley  from  the  wooded  heights. 
There  prays  she  for  the  sinner,  day  and  night, 
Who  struck  a  death-blow  to  her  loving  heart, 
Bruising  her  life  in  passionate  disdain. 
For  him  she  prays  the  mercy  of  high  Heaven. 
(O  holy  love,  how  wonderful  thy  grace !) 
But  soon  the  pilgrims  will  return  from  Rome: 
T  is  autumn  and  erelong  they  must  be  here. 
Will  he  come  back  repentant  and  absolved?— 
These  are  her  questions,  this  her  constant 

prayer. 
Grant,  O  ye  saints,  that  they  may  meet  once 

more, 

Although  my  wound  may  never  heal  again, 
Yea,  grant  to  her  all  comfort  and  all  peace!" 
And  once  again  he  started  on  his  way, 
When  floating  up  the  valley  came  a  sound 
Of  happy  pilgrims  singing  holy  hymns. 

Quickly  Elizabeth  before  the  shrine 
Arose  and  listened,  then  cried  out  in  joy: 
"It  is  the  pilgrims'  song!  They  come  again! 
O  holy  saints,  reveal  my  duty  now, 
That  I  may  do  it  worthily  and  well!" 

54 


The  final  prayer  of  Elizabeth 


While  Wolfram  spake,  communing  with  him-  Cf)0 

self: 

"  Yea,  't  is  the  pilgrims  and  their  solemn  chant 
That  tells  of  sins  absolved  and  pardon  won. 
O  heavenly  grace,  make  strong  her  loving 

heart, 
For  this  the  dreaded  crisis  of  her  life!" 

Far  off  the  pilgrims'  song  was  sweetly  heard ; 
Nearer  they  came,  and  clearer  were  the  words ; 
The  winding  roads,  thick-wooded,  hid  from  view 
The  marching  throng,  as  tunefully  they  raised 
Their  joyous  voices  full  of  cheer  and  peace; 
Until  they  came  in  sight  and  reverent  kneeled 
Beside  the  wayside  shrine,  and  sang  this  song: 

PPY  we  come  to  home  and  friends, 
In  these  dear  fields  our  journey  ends; 

Our  pilgrim  staves  henceforth  may  rest! 

For  peace,  deep  peace,  now  fills  our  breast ! 

"The  sinner's  prayer  on  high  was  heard, 
And  answered  by  our  gracious  Lord; 
The  tears  we  poured  before  His  shrine 
Were  turned  to  hope  and  joy  divine! 

"The  saving  grace  washed  out  our  sin; 
The  peace  of  God  came  flowing  in ; 
All  fear  of  death  and  hell  is  o'er,  — 
O  praise  the  Lord  for  evermore ! 

Sing  hallelujah  o'er  and  o'er ! 

Sing  hallelujah  evermore!" 

And  still  they  sang  their  hymns  as  on  they 

went, 
Passed  by  the  shrine,  and  farther  down  the 

vale;         ,  55 


The  while  Elizabeth  scanned  each  glad  face,  — 
Her  heart  a-tremble  with  her  eager  hope. 
^°  ^ace  s^e  ^new-  Deep  piteous  was  her  cry, 
Kneeiing  once  more  before  the  Virgin's  shrine : 
"He  cometh  back  no  more,  nay,  nevermore! 
O  blessed  Virgin,  hear  my  fervent  prayer! 
To  thee,  beloved  Helper,  now  I  cry! 
Here  in  the  dust  I  bend  before  thy  shrine! 
O,  now  release  me  from  this  weary  earth ! 
Grant  that  my  virgin  soul,  made  angel-pure, 
May  enter  now  thy  holy  kingdom's  gates ! 
There  may  I  utter  truer  prayers  for  him 
Whose  burden  of  deep  guilt  is  on  my  heart ! 
If  in  vain  hope  I  have  been  deep  enthralled, 
And  turned  my  heart  at  all  from  thee  away; 
If  in  a  thoughtless,  foolish  hour  I  held 
An  earthly  longing  cherished  in  my  soul,  — 
Now  have  I  struggled  with  the  bitterest  pains, 
And  slain  desire  within  my  secret  heart ! 
Yet  if  thou  shrive  me  not  by  welcome  death, 
O,  grant  me  grace  to  bear  my  loveless  fate, 
For  I  in  all  humility  to  thee 
Do  vow  to  live  a  virgin  all  my  days ; 
And  evermore  my  prayer  to  thee  shall  rise 
That  heavenly  grace  may  save  him  from  his 

sins,  — 
Him  whom  I  loved,  and  lost!" 

Long  time  she  knelt ; 

Then  as  she  slowly  rose,  she  saw  Wolfram, 
Who  near  approached  to  have  a  word  with 

her. 

She  bade  him  by  a  gesture  not  to  speak ; 
Too  full  and  heavy  are  sad  hearts  for  words ; 

56 


And  when  at  length  after  a  silence  long, 

He  asked:  "Pray,  may  I  walk  the  path  with 

thee?" 

She  spake  no  word,  but  showed  him  by  a  look 
That  though  she  thanked  him  for  his  faithful 

love, 

She  never  could  accept  it.  Naught  to  her 
Were  things  of  earth  henceforth.  She  lived  for 

Heaven. 

And  as  she  upward  looked  with  glance  en- 
tranced, 

He  saw  her  meaning,  and  in  reverence  stood. 
Slow  and  alone  she  wended  her  sad  way 
Along  the  mountain  path  to  farther  heights, 
Until  at  last  she  disappeared  from  view 
Within  the  frowning  Wartburg's  massive  walls. 

As  long  as  he  could  see  her,  Wolfram  watched 
With  tenderness  and  longing  in  his  eyes ; 
Then  taking  up  his  harp,  he  played  and  sang 
This  fair  romance  of  evening's  holy  star, 
While  twilight  trembled  into  gathering  night: 

HE  dusk,  like  death,  a  gloomy  dark- 
ness  brings, 
Enshrouds  the  valleys  with  her  sombre  wings ; 
The  soul  who  follows  to  yon  glorious  height 
Must  leave  behind  all  fear,  and  dare  the  night ! 
There  shinest  thou,  O  loveliest,  tenderest  star! 
Thy  softened  light  a  blessing  near  and  far ! 
With  thy  fair  rays  new  faith  and  hope  are 

given, 
And  from  the  vale  of  earth,  thou  leadest  to 

heaven ! 

57 


"O  thou  sublime,  sweet  evening  star, 
Joyous  I  greet  thee  from  afar! 
]K)arfinn       Whisper  my  love  as  she  goes  by, 

From  earth's  green  valleys  to  the  sky! 
My  heart  to  that  fair  angel  given, 
Soon  to  be  brightest  star  in  heaven ! 

"O  evening  star,  thy  holy  light 
Gladly  I  welcome  with  the  night! 
And  from  my  heart  that  hid  its  love 
I  send  my  prayers  to  her  above ! 
God  gave  her  for  earth's  fairest  vision, 
Soon  rises  she  to  heights  Elysian!" 

Now  grew  the  night  more  dark.  And  in  the 

gloom 

Appeared  a  traveller,  footsore  and  sad ; 
Pallid  his  face  and  drawn ;  his  tattered  dress 
Perchance  was  once  a  pilgrim's  solemn  garb. 
Helped  by  his  staff,  he  walked  with  falt'ring 

steps. 
Sudden  he  stopped  and  listened.   Then  he 

spake: 
"I  heard  the  sound  of  harp.  How  sad  the 

strings ! 
Surely  it  was  not  she  who  played  and  sang." 

From  out  the  night  and  shadows  Wolfram  rose, 
And  asked  the  stranger  courteously  and  fair: 
"Who  art  thou,  pilgrim,  wandering  so  alone?" 
Whereat  the  tattered  traveller  drew  near, 
And  gazed  intently  at  the  minstrel-knight : 
"And  dost  thou  ask  that  question,  Who  am  I? 
Right  well  do  I  know  thee.  Wolfram  thou  art, 
The  'clever  minstrel ! 'called  by  loving  friends." 
58 


Elizabeth  bids  farewell  to  Wolfram 


Mocking   he   spake,   and   Wolfram   quickly 

cried: 

"What  see  mine  eyes?  Tannhauser,  is  it  thou? 
What  brings  thee  here  dejected  and  distressed? 
Speak,  gloomy  pilgrim!  Not  with  sin  un- 

sh  rived, 
Thou  darest  to  set  foot  in  our  domain!" 

But  sadly  spake  Tannhauser,  —for  'twas  he: 
"Nay,  pious  minstrel,  put  thy  fears  aside! 
I  seek  not  thee,  nay,  nor  thy  fellows  proud. 
A  path  I  seek,  or  else  a  trusty  guide, 
To  find  a  path  that  once  I  trod  with  ease." 
And  Wolfram  asked:  "What  path  is  that  you 

seek?" 

To  which  Tannhauser  answered  with  a  cry 
That  seemed  to  tell  a  frenzy  of  desire,  — 
The  bitter  longing  of  a  desperate  heart: 
"The  path  to  Venus  in  the  Horselberg!" 

Amazed  and  horror-stricken,  Wolfram  cried : 
"O  hapless  wretch!  Is  this  thy  purpose  vile? 
Thy  desperate  words  my  very  ears  profane!" 
Then  asked  Tannhauser  fiercely  once  again : 
"Nay,  but  the  path!  Canst  guide  me  to  the 

path?" 
"  Madman ! "  cried  Wolfram.  "  Horror 's  in  thy 

words! 
Whence  comest  thou?  Didst  thou  not  go  to 

Rome?" 

"Speak  not  of  Rome!"  Tannhauser  cried  in 

rage. 
Then  Wolfram  once  again  asked  quietly: 

59 


"And  didst  thou  seek  no  pardon  for  thy  sin? 
Didst  thou  not  seek  the  holy  shrine  for  shrift?" 

"Nor  speak  of  that!"  Tannhauser  answered 

him. 

Yet  Wolfram  still  persisted:  "Speak,  I  pray! 
And  tell  me  whether  thou  hast  been  to  Rome?" 
Then  grimly  Tannhauser,  in  bitter  pain : 
"Yea,  I  have  been  to  Rome,  — God  save  the 

day!" 

But  Wolfram  cried :  "Speak  on,  unhappy  man ! 
I  hear  thy  words  with  deepest  sympathy." 

"With  sympathy?"  the  other  in  amaze,— 
"What  sayest  thou?  Then  thou  art  not  my 

foe?" 

And  Wolfram:  "Nay,  thy  foe  I  never  was! 
I  only  sought  to  keep  thee  firm  and  true. 
But  speak!  How  fared  thy  pilgrimage?" 

His  eye 

Alone  responding  to  the  generous  love, 
Slowly  Tannhauser  spake:  "Yea,  Wolfram, 

hark! 

And  thou  shalt  hear  all  that  befell  at  Rome! 
Nay,  come  not  close  to  me !  Where'er  I  am 
Is  deep  accurst!  Stand  off,  but  mark  me  well! 
More  penitent  in  soul  than  ever  pilgrim  went 
On  earth  before,  I  sought  my  way  to  Rome. 
An  angel  had  dispelled  the  pride  of  sin, 
The  mad  profaneness,  from  my  guilty  breast ; 
For  her  dear  sake  I  took  the  sorrowing  path 
To  pray  for  pardon  and  for  earthly  peace ; 
For  her  whose  sweet  tears  pleaded  still  for  me, 
And  sad  bewailed  my  heavy  grievous  sin. 

60 


Yea,  as  I  saw  the  pilgrims  laden  sore, 
Me-seemed  their  burdens  still  were  far  too 

And  when  their  feet  oft  sought  the  easy  path,  *&&& 
I  trod  unshod  amid  the  rock  and  thorn ; 
When  they  refreshed  their  lips  by  some  cool 

stream, 

Thirsty  I  plodded  on  beneath  the  sun ; 
When  they  besought  the  aid  of  holy  saints, 
I  shed  my  life-blood  for  the  cause  divine ; 
When  in  some  hospice  they  sought  sheltered 

rest, 

I  stretched  my  limbs  amid  the  snow  and  ice ; 
Lest  Italy's  fair  scenes  should  give  me  joy, 
Blindfold  I  walked  and  kept  my  soul  full  sad. 
Thus   did    I    go, —repenting,    crushed    and 

bruised, 

For  that  dear  angel's  sake  who  wept  for  me. 
Then  Rome  I  gained  at  last,  and  at  its  shrine, 
Its  holiest  shrine,  I  knelt  in  fervent  prayer. . . . 
The  daylight  broke;  the  silver  bells  pealed 

forth; 
'Neath  vaulted  roofs  the  heavenly  hymns  were 

sung; 

A  thousand  voices  rose  exultantly, 
For  grace  and  mercy  flowed  o'er  every  soul. 
There  saw  I  him  who  holds  the  keys  of  heaven, 
And  prostrate  fell  the  throngs  before  his  face, 
And    thousands   he   forgave  that  day,   and 

blessed, 
And  sent  them   forth   renewed  in  heavenly 

grace. 

Then  drew  I  near,  head  bowed  and  eyes  down- 
cast; 

61 


Confessed  my  sin,  in  sorrow  and  despair; 
Accused  my  darkened  soul  of  mad  desires; 
Bewailed  the  fire  no  penitence  had  quenched ; 

And  wildly  cried  for  pardon  and  release 

I  thought  he  seemed  at  first  most  pitiful ; 
In  tears  and  dust  I  craved  one  gracious  word; 
Then  pity  died  within  his  kindly  eye ; 
He  looked  at  me  most  sternly  and  replied : 
'If  thou  hast  shared  the  joys  of  evil  love, 
And  warmed  thy  soul  in  those  unholy  fires 
Where  Venus  dwells  in  heathen  blasphemy, 
Then  art  thou  now  and  evermore  accurst ! 
Yea,  sooner  shall  this  seasoned  staff  I  hold 
Put  forth  in  miracle  fresh  leaf  or  bloom 
Than  thy  lost  soul  be  snatched  from  lowest 

hell, 

Or  fair  forgiveness  ever  bloom  for  thee ! ' . .  . 
Despair  heartrending  made  my  senses  swim, 
And  down  I  sank.  When  I  awoke  again, 
T  was  night,  and  all  forsaken,  there  I  lay, 
The  only  one  of  thousands  so  repulsed. 
Far  off  I  heard  the  songs  of  prayer  and  praise, 
But  deep  damnation  thundered  in  my  soul,  — 
The  sorrowing  music  of  a  deep  despair. 
Loathing  the  place  I  fled  their  holy  hymns, 
Fled  from  the  lying  clangor  of  their  bells,  — 
Fled  madly  as  though  called,  'Unclean!  Un- 
clean!' 

With  horror  in  my  heart  I  turned  and  fled 

Then  longed  my  soul  again  to  taste  those  joys 
That  once  had  cured  my  earth-born  pains  and 

woe. . . . 

And  so,  cast  out,  accurst  by  God  and  man, 
Fair  Venus,  once  again  to  thee  I  come ! 
62 


The  sweet  night  breathes  thy  magic  witchery! 

I  come  to  thy  dark  courts  as  bounden  slave! 

Only  be  gracious  and  assuage  my  pains!"         10  ft tD OH 

Appalling  was  his  mad  ecstatic  voice, 

Then  Wolfram  cried:  "Nay,  nay,  unhappy 

man!" 

But  still  to  Venus  did  Tannhauser  pray: 
"O  Venus,  thou  forgivest!  Guide  my  feet! 
How  well  in  other  days  this  road  I  knew! 
Behold,  I  have  been  cursed  and  spurned  of  men ! 
Come,  fairest  Venus,  take  me  once  again ! . . . 
Ah,  now  methinks  I  see  her  fairy  clouds 
That  softly  float  into  the  valley  here, 
And  light  the  darkness  with  their  rosy  light! 
Yea !  dost  thou  not  the  balmy  breezes  feel, 
And  breathe  her  presence  in  the  perfumed  air? 
Yea!    hear   the    rapturous   music    sounding 

forth,  — 

Mysterious  glory  from  the  mountain's  heart! 
And  see !  in  mazy  dance  the  graceful  nymphs ! 
See,  see  their  ecstasy  of  whirling  love! 
Behold,  the  air  is  full  of  dancing  forms! 
Come  on,  ye  fair  ones!  Pour  me  pleasure's 

draught!" 

But  Wolfram  in  a  greater  horror  cried : 
"Madman,  away!  Or  thou  art  lost  or  dead!  — 
Yea,  would   that   thou  wert   rather  in  thy 

grave ! . .  . 

How  wildly  now  he  pants  in  shuddering  joy! 
What  evil  magic  fills  the  darkened  air 
With  visions  that  allure  him  to  the  depths? 
What  evil  demons  seem  to  crowd  the  night!" 

63 


Louder  Tannhauser  called  in  frantic  might : 
"O  rapture,  bliss  in  all  my  throbbing  heart! 
l£)fttDOtt  *  *"ee^  ner  dark  ambrosial  breath  on  me! 

This  is  the  magic  realm  of  her  sweet  love ! 
Now,  fairest  Venus,  I  am  here  with  thee!". . . 
And  as  he  spake,  the  rifting  clouds  unclosed,  — 
The   while   mysterious   music   thrilled   and 

throbbed,— 

And  lo !  fair  Venus,  radiant  in  charms, 
Reclining  on  a  couch  of  rosy  light. 
Gently  she  spake  with  soft  reproaches  kind : 
"Yea,  thou  art  welcome,  poor  unfaithful  soul! 
The  world  has  cursed  thee  with  its  hate  and 

ban! 
Nowhere  on  earth  canst  thou  find  pardon, 

peace! 

So  wouldst  thou  seek  for  solace  in  my  love?" 
Devoutly  kneeling,  glad  Tannhauser  prayed : 
"Yea,  fairest  Venus,  great  in  tenderness, 
Receive  me  in  thy  pity  to  thy  heart!" 
And  Venus  answered  him  with  gracious  smiles: 
"If  of  thine  own  free  will  thou  seekest  me, 
I  will  forgive  thy  rash  unfaithfulness ! 
Come,  then,  and  taste  the  fount  of  deathless 

joy, 

The  myriad  joys  within  my  radiant  realms,  — 
And  nevermore  depart  from  my  heart's  love!" 

But  Wolfram  tightly  clutched  him,  crying  loud : 
"Begone,  ye  hellish  phantoms!  Quick,  begone! 
Ye  banish  every  pure  thought  from  ourhearts  1" 
Fiercely  Tannhauser  tore  himself  away, 
With  the  wild  words:  "Nay,  let  me  go,  I  say! 
I  am  accurst  and  lost  to  hope  on  earth, 

64 


Naught  but  the  joys  of  hell  are  left  to  me!" 
But  Wolfram  clutched  him  tighter  still  and 

prayed : 

"Almighty  God,  be  pitiful  and  kind! .  . . 
Henry,  one  word,— forgiveness  full  it  means,— 
Repent!" 

But  angrily  Tannhauser  cried: 
"Nay,  speak  no  more!  Away  from  me,  I  say!" 

Then  Venus  called  again  in  wistful  word: 

"O  come,  beloved!  Mine  forever  now!" 

But  Wolfram  clung  to  him  with  desperate 

strength,  — 

Tannhauser  vainly  struggling  to  get  free,— 
Exclaiming  still:  "I  will  not  let  thee  go! 
Thou  must  be  saved !  Thy  sin  must  be  forgiven ! " 
Tannhauser,  struggling,  muttered  with  slow 

breath: 

"Nay,  never!  Let  me  go!  I  must  go  down! 
Wolfram,  all  hope  is  gone!  The  heavens  are 

closed!" 

But  Wolfram  cried : "  Nay,  heaven  is  open  still ! 
An  angel  on  the  earth  once  prayed  for  thee,— 
Now,  even  now,  her  spirit,  winging  flight, 
Dropped  blessing  on  thee  as  she  rose  to  hea- 
ven! 

With  reverence  deep  I  speak  her  holy  name ! 
Angel  of  purity,  her  name  I  breathe — 
Elizabeth !  she  prays  for  thee  in  heaven !" 

Sudden  Tannhauser  paused,  nor  struggled 

more; 
He  seemed  awakwiing  from  some  darksome 

dream ; 

65 


And  looking  upward  fervently  he  cried : 

"Elizabeth!  she  prays  for  me  in  heaven! 

O  God,  I  do  repent  me  in  the  dust!" 

And  in  a  torrent  of  repentant  tears, 

His  whole  soul  throbbed  and  trembled  in  its 

woe. 

And  Wolfram  came  to  him  most  tenderly; 
Put  round  him  his  strong  brotherly  right  arm, 
And  whispered  to  him:  "Yea,  thine  angel  prays! 
She  prays  for  thee  before  the  very  throne ! 
She  prays,  and  God  doth  hear!  Thy  heart  re- 
pents ! 
Henry,  thou  art  forgiven!  thou  art  forgiven!" 

Faintly  the  voice  of  Venus  sighed  and  sobbed : 
"Woe!  I  have  lost  him  now  for  evermore!" 
And  quick  she  vanished  with  her  rosy  clouds 
And  all  the  evil  witchery  of  night. . . . 

And  now  God's  morning  broke  in  fresh  sweet 

light, 

Pure  as  a  soul  but  newly  shrived  for  heaven, 
A  fair  day  for  the  sweet  and  holy  earth, 
A  fair  day  for  the  sweet  immortal  life. 

Forth  from  the  Wartburg  came  a  saddened 

throng, 

With  glimmering  torches  of  funereal  gloom, 
In  slow  procession  down  the  winding  way; 
And  as  they  walked  this  solemn  dirge  they 

sang: 

ECEIVE,  O  Lord,  this  patient  soul  so 
bright 
That  now  to  Thee  has  gladly  winged  her  flight ; 

66 


"Hers  be  the  blest  reward  to  angels  given,      Cf)0 
Crowned  with  the  glory  and  the  joy  of  heaven ;  JpOpC^iS 

"Sainted  forever  with  that  glorious  band 
Who  robed  in  white  before  th'  Eternal  stand. 

"And  blest  be  he  whose  sins  are  all  forgiven, 
And  by  her  prayers  and  tears  at  last  gains 
heaven." 

Faint  with  his  grief,  Tannhauser  trembling 

fell; 

But  Wolfram  caught  him  gently  in  his  arms, 
And  whispered:  "Speak!  dost  hear  their  holy 

hymn 

Of  prayer  and  praise  for  her  who  is  in  heaven?" 
Dying  he  murmured:  "Yea,  I  hear  the  hymn." 

Then  nearer  still  the  sad  procession  drew, 

The  Landgrave,  knights  and  nobles  follow- 
ing; 

And  like  a  bride  of  death  on  open  couch 

Lay  fair  Elizabeth,  a  saint  of  God, 

Clothed  in  a  simple  robe  of  purest  white, 

Lustrous  like  her  own  soul's  sweet  purity; 

And  crowned  and  garlanded  with  pure  white 
flowers,  — 

Herself  the  sweetest  flower  of  all  the  world. 

Then  Wolfram  brought  Tannhauser  to  the 

couch, 

To  gaze  upon  that  sweet  face  still  in  death ; 
And  coming  near,  Tannhauser  looked  in  love, 
And  bending  o'er  her  body,  prayed  the  prayer: 

67 


"Dear  saint  Elizabeth,  O,  pray  for  me!" 
10 ODE'S  ^nc* w^  t^e  worc*s>  ^e  swooned,  and  breathed 

parnon  hislast 

Thus  were  two  suffering  souls  prepared  for 

heaven, 

An<J  found  each  other  after  many  days ; 
Thus  was  a  pure  and  faithful  woman's  heart 
Triumphant  over  all  the  wiles  of  sin. 

For,  as  in  awe,  the  bearers  quenched  their 

lights, 

Inverting  their  funereal  torches'  flame ; 
And  as  the  glorious  morning  sun  burst  forth 
In  greater  glory  o'er  the  mountain  tops; 
Another  company  of  pilgrims  came, 
Returning  from  the  holy  shrines  of  Rome. 
Across  the  mountain  paths  they  slowly  moved, 
And  to  the  valley  wended  their  sad  way; 
Holding  aloft  a  rough-hewn  wooden  cross, 
Wreathed  in  fair  flowers,  for  it  was  special  gift 
And  special  message  from  the  Pope's  own 

hand; 
And  as  they  walked  they  sang  this  wondrous 

strain: 

EJOICE !  the  gracious  Lord  hath  mar- 

vels  wrought ! 

He  hath  redemption  to  his  people  brought ! 
Behold  his  deed  in  night's  most  holy  hour! 
Behold  his  miracle  of  wondrous  power ! 

"For  lo!  the  Pontiff's  staff,  once  dry  and  dead, 
God  hath  renewed  with  blossoms  bright  and 
red! 

68 


So  shall  the  sinner,  dead  in  shame  and  sin, 
Receive  forgiveness,  and  new  life  begin! 

"Tell  wide  the  news !  Raise  high  the  gladsome 
voice ! 

And  may  each  sinning,  sorrowing  heart  re- 
joice! 

High  above  all  is  God,  the  sinner's  Friend! 

His  mercy  and  compassion  have  no  end!" 

So  sang  they,  and  the  hearts  of  all  were  glad ; 
Redemption  had  been  wrought  before  their 

eyes, 

A  lost  soul  saved  at  last  by  faith  and  love ! 
And  all  the  throng,  a  motley  company, 
Knights,  pilgrims,  nobles,  stirred  with  feeling 

deep, 
United  in  one  hymn  of  gratitude : 

RAISE  God  with  hallelujahs  o'er  and 

o'er! 

Praise  Him  and  sing  hosannas  evermore! 
His  pitying  grace  gives  now  its  open  token! 
The  Lord  himself  the  bonds  of  sin  hath  broken! 
Praises  to  God !  ye  angel  hosts  on  high ! 
Praises  to  God!  let  every  creature  cry! 
God's  grace  to  every  penitent  is  given ! 
The  vilest  sinner  may  at  last  win  heaven!" 


THE  END 


!£  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  029  359 


